


Life is a Highway

by derryhawkins



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh Are Best Friends, F/M, M/M, Pining, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Slow Burn, also yes stan likes mike in the beginning but stanpat comes eventually, but i’m writing anyway, honestly they’re all best friends, no beta we die like men, stanpat deserves more love, that might be a lie tho, this is the road trip au no one ask for, will add tags as the story goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 00:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21065435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derryhawkins/pseuds/derryhawkins
Summary: The seven of them made a plan in middle school: use the months between high school and college, and take a road trip through all of the states. Their twelve year old minds didn’t think it would actually happen, but six years later with enough saved up money, they’re going on an extremely long trip together in a large van.[OR, they take a road trip to get the hell of out Derry, expecting mostly smooth sailing and fun times. What they don't expect are two to three months filled with budding romances, tests of friendships, a lesson to never leave Richie, Stan and Beverly in charge of fireworks and/or anything with fire every again, and the realization that they're going to miss each other like fucking hell when they all go to college.]





	1. Maine

**Author's Note:**

> I am literally SO excited for this fic even tho it’s going to be hell to write, and I hope you guys are excited too. The chapters - all 49 - are going to be really fucking long bc each chapter is dedicated to a different state during the Losers’ road trip (Maine is getting 2 bc they’re starting and ending there), so expect like 7k+ words for each one. 
> 
> This is gonna be a doozy but, still, I’m hyped for it! And I’ll try to get each Loser’s perspective during each chapter since this isn’t set for just one main character.
> 
> Also, if anyone is curious, I’m following a specific road trip route that goes through every state and it’s called the “Ultimate US Road Trip” or something like that, I can’t remember exactly, but if you google it i’m sure you can find it. It’s filled with National Landmarks and Parks and shit, and those are also the sights I’m using for the Losers’ destinations bc I’m unoriginal and too lazy to look at different things to do in 48 states lmao. 
> 
> This also takes place during the 1995; probably irrelevant but we're gonna have some 90s Losers in this fic
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading about the Losers being chaotic dumbasses in a van together!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time to leave Derry.

Derry, Maine is a small town with barely anything to do. Sure, there's the theater, but it's run down and the only time the group of seven want to go there is if there's a movie premiering that looks extremely interesting; then there's the drive-in theater they go most of the time, but unfortunately it's closing because the owner sold the property to some land-hungry dick. (In about five months time, they won't be able to there anymore - or, rather, a few hours time, considering what they are about to do.) There's not even a mall in Derry; only a lame and tiny grocery store on a corner every once in a while, a few clothes stores, and that one tiny thrift store at the edge of town they all love. There aren't any big chain restaurants, either, other than McDonald's which hardly counts considering how shitty it is, and if you want to go to a big shot supermarket like Walmart or something, you'll have to drive a town or so over.

So, to put it simply, Derry _sucks_. It's a bum-fuck of a town that the group hates with varying degrees, and that's the exact reason they're all high tailing it out of there the day they graduate before heading off for college, because they don't want to stay in this town any longer.

The Losers Club - a name they gave themselves in middle school - are going on a road trip through every state, excluding Hawaii and Alaska for obvious reasons. It's something that they never thought they would be able to do, but something they dreamed of since they were just shy of thirteen during the summer they all first met one another. The seven of them made a plan in middle school: use the months between high school and college, and take a road trip across the states. Their twelve year old minds didn’t think it would actually happen, but six years later with enough saved up money, they’re going on an extremely long trip together in a large van.

No one can exactly remember how the plan came to be - it could have been when Bill was talking about taking an adventure, or when Eddie exclaimed he wanted to leave the town, or when Mike stated that he wants to visit the national parks at some point - but either way, that fateful day in the barrens ended up with them having a just out of reach plan to go on a road trip together. At first, they all forgot, but not even two weeks later Richie brings it up again and that's when they started saving money the best they could, slowly starting to ease their families into the plan as well.

Now here they are after graduation in their separate homes, getting ready to leave later that night. Each of them have a good bit of money saved both in their wallets and in their savings and checkings accounts, and they're all more than ready to leave Derry behind and not come back for another two to three months, only to leave again for college right after.

The road trip either going to end terribly or amazingly, though; they've been stuck together for seven years now. At any chance they got, the group of the would hang out. Sometimes it would be all seven of them, other times it wouldn't be, but that didn't matter at the time and it still doesn't because they're stuck like glue. From the moment they became friends in '89, it's always been like that. But they've never been stuck in one place all together at a time for more than three days thanks do various weekend sleepovers. For the next two to three months, they're going to be basically living in a van, staying in cheap motels, and being surrounded by one another nearly 24/7.

Bill Denbrough just hopes it doesn't break their close friendship.

A smaller body ramming into him brings Bill out of his thoughts before he has the chance to dwell more about the road trip. He stumbles a bit at the impact and quickly looks down to see his twelve year old brother, Georgie, and lets go of the handle of his suit case, giving a small laugh. The laughs dies out quick though at realizing that his little brother is holding a bit too tight, and the front of his shirt is slowly becoming wet. Bill sighs and hugs Georgie back. "I'll b-be back in no time, Georgie," Bill assures the kid. "S-S-Summer's gonna f-fly by!" He inwardly winces at his stutter. It's been getting better, but every once in a while he still can't go more than a few words without stuttering.

"But then you're leaving for _college_," Georgie cries, spitting out the word as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Bill frowns and moves his hands to Georgie's shoulders. He slowly pushes them apart from one another to where he can comfortable squat down and look at his little brother in the eye. "I promise to be back in t-time so we can have a w-w-week together before I go, alright?" He wipes away the tears on the kid's cheeks, and he suddenly feels thirteen again, smearing away tears off of seven year old Georgie's face after a bad nightmare. But this isn't a nightmare. It's Bill leaving. And he hates it, really. Sure, he's excited to be with his friends, but he hates having to leave behind his brother even if it is for a couple or so months. At the thought, he can feel his own tears start to form but he blinks them away and smiles. "We can p-p-play that vuh-video game you like as much as you want. Hell, you might not want to hang with me b-buh-b-by the time I get back. You might have your own friend group."

Georgie sniffles, wiping under his nose with the back of his hand.

As he witnesses that, Bill can hear Eddie clear as day in his mind complaining about germs and what-not, followed by Stan's offer of some tissues paired something inappropriate from Richie.

"What if I don't?" Georgie asks. "Have my own friends, I mean."

"You will, trust me. So long as you go _outside_."

He rolls his eyes but Bill does and says nothing about it, because at least Georgie isn't crying anymore.

"Help me bring my stuff to Dad's car?" Bill asks. He stands straight and reaches for his suitcase again, vaguely gesturing to the pillow, blanket, and backpack on the couch. Georgie hurriedly nods and grabs the pillow and blanket while Bill reaches for the backpack full of books, papers, pens, a few games, his polaroid camera and film for it, and snacks that will probably last him one day. Together, the brothers leave the living room and walk outside, putting all of Bill's stuff in the trunk for the time being. He then looks at the watch on his wrist - a graduation present from his parents - and smiles when he realizes he still has a few hours to kill before he needs to rush to Richie's house. "Hey, wanna play a video game before I g-?"

Bill doesn't get to finish the question, because Georgie is gasping, interrupting his big brother, and quickly saying yes before latching a hand onto Bill's wrist and dragging back inside.

+++

Mike Hanlon, as much as he is excited, is equally nervous. He’s never been outside of Derry, Maine before other than the occasional trip out of town to the next one over for a giant shopping spree with a few of the other Losers. But other than that? He’s been stuck in the same, boring town. Now, in a few hours time, he’s going to be hightailing out of here with six best friends to 48 different states. He can believe it, honestly. This road trip had been but a simple dream and out of reach want for a lame group of kids six years ago. Fast forward, and now it’s really happening. He’s packing for two and a half months. He has a debit card with hopefully enough money and cash in his wallet that he promises his parents that he won’t waste on unnecessary things. He’s got snacks in his backpack, along with some deck of cards and things to keep him entertained when he’s not the one driving. He double checks everything to make sure he isn’t missing anything before dragging his things to his parents’ car.

The nerves won’t go away but the excitement over powers them. Mike shuts the trunk once putting everything in, and goes back inside and ventured to the kitchen to find his mom with two Tupperware boxes of chocolate chip cookies and two more of brownies. Mike can only stare for a second. They just had a family dinner. Cookies and brownies had been no where in sight then, yet suddenly here they are.

“Uh. Mom?” He questions, gesturing to the four boxes. “Where did this come from?”

The woman looks up with a bright grin. “Oh! I made these yesterday but hid ‘em so they wouldn’t get eaten too soon. They’re for your trip – a gift for your friends graduatin' and somethin' to snack on.”

Mike can just smile. His mother’s cookies and brownies are the best, and the Losers think the exact same thing. “Thanks, Mom. They’re gonna love them,” he tells her.

“Who doesn’t love your mother’s cooking?” Mike’s father questions as he walked into the kitchen. His eyes quickly land on his son. “Ready for your trip?”

He sucks in a breath and nods. “Most definitely. I am nervous a bit, though.”

The man rolls his eyes. “Don’t be. Only the parents are allowed to be nervous here, got it? Have fun and don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t," Mike promises.

His dad continues on, “And if _anyone_ gives you shit, threaten them with a gun under their chin. Works like a charm.”

“_Will_,” Jessica Hanlon speaks in a warning tone to her husband.

“What? Want me to tell him to not stand up for himself and his friends?” Will asks.

Mike smiles as his eyes flit between his parents. “If it comes to that, I’ll try things nicely at first, promise.”

Jessica Hanlon looks pleased with that. “Good. Now, let’s get these in the car and get you to Richard’s, okay?”

“We’ve still got-.”

“If you wanna leave on time, you gotta get there early to pack everything in that van.”

She’s right. Of course she is, she’s Jessica Hanlon, a mom; and somehow mothers always know best – good mothers, that is. Not someone like Sonia Kaspbrak. Mike, after nodding in response to his mom, makes a face at the thought of his best friend’s mom as he helps carry the brownies and cookies to the car. Mrs. Kaspbrak is an overly protective and anxious parental figure with a giant irrational fear of her son being sick. She had made her child believe that he had tens of different sicknesses, making him take placebo pills, and inhaler for his very not real asthma that he now uses for panic attacks.

Mike carefully hands his mom the thing of cookies after she sets the brownies carefully in the backseat. She takes them with a smile and a thank you.

Thankfully though, Mike doesn’t need to worry much about whether or not Eddie’s mom is going to go crazy and lock him up in his room and keep him from going on the field trip, because the anxiety ridden teen made afternoon plans with Beverly Marsh. So, he stops worrying about Eddie, keeps himself from worrying about any of the others, and makes sure that he hasn’t forgotten anything before saying bye to his grandparents. He’s then climbing into the car beside the sweets, his parents up front, pure excitement coursing through him now.

+++

Beverly Marsh’s giggles mix with Eddie Kaspbrak’s loud laugh as they lean on one another for support. The radio is on, some pop song neither of them care much for playing softly in the background in the girl’s room; their suitcases and belongings that they’re taking on the road trip are in a neat pile in the living room, excluding the nail polish kit that’s currently sat on the messy bed with the two high school graduates. Neither of them know what they're laughing at anymore, having gotten into this fit of laughter and giggles minutes before hand, unable to stop once they started. Bev and Eddie sit across from each other, but as the laughs continued, Bev found herself leaning forward to where her forehead is resting on Eddie's shoulder, and as he leans back to catch his breath, it causes her head to drop down nearly face first into his crotch, eliciting more laughter after a beat of surprised silence.

Bev shrieks with laughter as she falls backwards with her knees in the air and arms around herself. "I almost face-planted your dick," she gets out through the laughter, wheezing.

Eddie wipes under his eyes, careful not to mess up the royal blue nail polish that's still drying, and he tries to calm himself down but giggles are bubbling up once again. "Oh, my God, that's the closest any girl will _ever_ get to it." And the words just add to the fuel. Because, fuck, if that isn't the truest thing in the entire fucking world. Eddie is very much gay and Bev knows it, along with Stan and Richie, so the chance of a girl ever getting close to his private parts are in the negatives.

"Shit," Bev breathes out, a few more chuckles leaving her lips. "_Fuck_, Ed. My sides hurt." It comes out a vague whining tone but a smile is on her lips, so Eddie doesn't jump to serious conclusions about his best friend's health. His sides are hurting too, so he knows it's just from their laughing fit.

"That's the most I've laughed in days," Eddie admits, and Bev can only nod because she hasn't either. Between the stress of finals and getting ready for graduation, none of them have been stress-free enough to laugh that much. Hell, the seven of them haven't even spent much time together in the past couple of weeks because of school. Now, though, that's about to change. They are stress free, too, meaning laughter is coming easy. Maybe too easy for Eddie and Bev.

"Okay. Alright, we need to calm down," Bev says. She sits up, eyes glassy from tears of laughter, a dopey look on her face. But then her brows are lowering and she's become serious all of a sudden, nearly taking Eddie by surprise. "You didn't mess up my artwork did you?"

"Uh..." Eddie lifts his hands to look at the dark blue nails and then shows them to Bev. It certainly isn't the first time she's painted them; but back then it was either a thumb, or a piny, or one of his middle fingers just for shits and giggles. Never a full hand or both. That isn't the case this time around. Eddie won't need to worry about his mother seeing the color on his nails that'll then cause her to worry about her suspicion of her precious, delicate, baby breathing in toxic fumes of nail polish. He just has to worry about possibly messing the nails up while they dry, and he hopes that he hasn't done that.

Bev smiles, satisfied, serious expression gone. She takes her nail painting seriously. "Good. I actually think they're dry, honestly. Wanna do mine?"

Eddie's wide-eyed at the question. "Dude, _what_?"

"Dude, _yeah_," She mocked him, deepening her voice but not much. "It's not hard, Eddie, and it doesn't matter if it's messy."

He eyes the colors skeptically. "I dunno, Bev," he says slowly. "I don't wanna be the reason you have shitty nails."

The scoff that escapes her is paired with an eye roll. "I literally don't give a shit, man. Paint my nails fuckin'...shit brown, for all I care. This is about having fun and nail polish remover is a thing, need I remind you?"

"Fuck off," he mumbles and reaches for a dark green nail polish. He holds the bottle up, asking a silent question of if that color is okay. She nods enthusiastically with a bright smile, and soon enough Eddie is twisting the cap of the bottle off after shaking it and carefully starts to paint Bev's nails the best of his ability. They talk while he does so, avoiding anything that might cause them to break into a ten minute fit of laughter again, soaking in one another's company. Eddie sits cross-cross apple sauce, his knees touching Bev's since she is sitting the same way. He concentrates hard on making sure he doesn't mess up. Their conversations dwindle down to Bev simply telling him stories of funny situations he hadn't been around for at school.

It's when he's on her right ring finger when she asks, "Have you told Rich yet?"

Eddie freezes, the brush of the polish halting halfway across the nail. He blinks and shifts. The question is nowhere close to the same topic of Betty Ripsom downing milk mixed with hot sauce. Or, maybe it is, because it wouldn't surprise Eddie if Richie has done that before. A sigh escapes him and he goes back to painting his friend's nails, frowning. "No," he says quietly.

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't like me like that."

Bev lets out a one syllable laugh.

Eddie glances up at her from his slouched position. "I'm serious, Bev," he says.

"So am I," she tells him. "He likes you back, Eddie, believe me."

"Okay. If that's the case, so does Ben."

It's her turn to frown. "You heard what he said at the New Years party," she speaks quietly. "He _used_ to like me. In _middle school_."

"Well, I don't believe that," Eddie tells her. She gives him a look, the exact same one he gives her when she insists that Richie likes him back. "I might even say he loves you."

"Oh, shut _up_," she exclaims. "He doesn't- the hell, Eddie?!"

He shrugs innocently, and finishes her right hand. "Well, he does. As friends, for sure. We all love each other. But I also mean he's, like, in love with you."

"If he did, he would've done something by now."

"He wrote you that poem," he points out. Eddie then brings her left hand closer, starting at her thumb. His dark eyes glance to her other hand; its messy as all hell but, like she said earlier, she obviously doesn't mind it. He blows a strand of hair from his forehead. Or, well, he tries to; it just ends up tickling him, making his nose scrunch up. In the end, Bev picks the strand carefully and easily moves it without messing up Eddie's work.

"We don't even know if that was actually him. I never figured it out," she says after a beat of silence.

The corners of his lips tug down. "Oh..."

She sighs. "Yeah." Then, "At least you have hope."

He rolls his eyes. "I do _not_-."

His protests got cut short by Beverly's aunt. "Bev! Eddie! Ben is here, so we gotta leave!"

Eddie raises a brow. "Speak of the devil."

Red dusts Bev's cheeks instantly and she moves to get off of the bed. She hisses a shut up at him. Then, "We're coming, Aunt Freya!"

"I haven't finished your nails!" Eddie complains as he closes the green polish, putting it with the others in a rush as Bev carefully opens the bedroom door to leave. He grabs the nail polish kit once its all together and hurries after Bev, nearly running into her.

When they enter the living room, he spots Ben talking to Freya, the eighteen year old towering over the woman with ease. It hit Eddie then how much Ben has truly changed over the years; he isn't that chubby kid anymore thanks to working out, joining Derry High's track team, and eating healthier, and it shows. He's more muscle now than anything. A sharp jaw. Long legs. Broad shoulders, too. But he's still Ben, with a kind smile and sweet blue eyes and straight dirty blond hair.

He leans close to Bev at realizing she is standing in place, too. "Ben looks extra hot today," he whispers just loud enough for only Bev to hear.

The look he gets in return is one of pure agreement.

+++

Richie is quite literally vibrating from excitement.

For the life of him, he can’t keep still. All throughout dinner, he had been jittery and talked faster than ever before about one thing or another, rambling nonstop. He only stopped as he went to his room when dinner was over. Still, an hour has passed by since then, and Richie’s motormouth is _still_ going as he packs last minute things into a backpack, two suitcases on top of his bed.

Stan Uris leans against the door frame with crossed arms and a stoic expression as he listens to his best friend ramble on and on about how excited he is for the road trip. The Jewish boy has been there for approximately five minutes and he’s already heard more from Richie than the past _week_. Not that Stan can complain though – okay, he actually could, but won’t for now – because he’s excited too. His stoic expression doesn’t last long at all and soon enough he’s butting in with his own excitement filled words, leaving the door frame to the chair at Richie’s desk, occasionally mentioning things that the dark haired teen might want or, more importantly, _need_ on the trip.

It goes like that for the next hour until Wentworth Tozier is shouting for the boys to bring down Richie’s belongings so they can start filling the twelve passenger van’s trunk up with suitcases. Stan’s is already there since his things had been neatly left in the living room, so all they have to currently do is put Richie’s in there. They toss their backpacks and pillows and blankets in their claimed seats – Richie gets the passenger’s seat, and Stan is sitting directly behind him. Either Bill or Mike are driving first; that situation has yet been affirmed. Went then puts in three of those red gallon things for gas in the very last row of seats where none of the Losers will be sitting. 

They finish packing up the car with their things – including a cooler of drinks, tons of mixtapes Richie had made that he puts messily in the glove compartment, and the handy-dandy map Stan brought - and while Maggie and Went head back inside, Stan and Richie stay outside, climbing to the top of the van. They just sit there, legs dangling off of the edge as they converse with one another, watching for their friends.

"I can't believe this is happening," Richie says for probably the millionth time that day, and he continues as Stan nods. "I mean, dude, we were twelve and bored and so tired of the town already. Not to mention we probably each had, like...two cents to our names. How the fuck did we save up enough money? This is a fucking dream!" He throws his arms up in the air and nearly smacks Stan in the face, the light curly haired boy blinking wildly as he leans back, a bit stunned.

Stan grabs Richie's wrist and moves it up and away from his space somewhat harshly. "I’m more surprised our parents agreed,” he admits. “We aren’t exactly the best behaved group around.”

“I mean, we’re eighteen; all of us. What can they do now? We’re legal adults, Stanny!”

“Well, we do still technically live in their homes, meaning we should live by their rules-.”

Richie groans and flops down onto the roof of the van, arms spread out. “Rules smules, Stanny. They agreed, man, just be happy.” He then puts his sunglasses over his eyes despite darkness having settled over them a bit ago.

The only thing lighting up the driveway is the lamppost not too far away and the moon and stars above them. Richie pushes the sunglasses to his forehead to get a proper look at the stars, thinking of the stick-on and glow in the dark ones on his ceiling in his bedroom. Eddie helped him put the stars up their a few years ago; both boys were bored and Richie wanted something added to his chaotic mess of a room. Hence the glow in the dark stars. It became a mess, to put it simply. Eddie had attempted to copy real constellations; some were put too close together causing random clusters and others seem to be too far apart. Eventually the boys gave up on making it seem like an actual sky and just plasters the stars randomly. Later they made up their own constellations. And looking at the sky with actual stars with real constellations makes him want to head up to his bedroom, lay on his bed, and look at the made up ones.

“—ike’s here.”

Richie blinks and turns to look at Stan, brows knitting together as he watched his best friend climb off of the van carefully. It takes him a moment to realize that someone is driving up to is house and that Stan already knows who it is. Richie sits up and smiles wide at seeing the familiar car that belongs to the Hanlons, and he catches Stan’s eye as they pull in beside the van, winking. Stan’s cheeks turn pink for the slightest second as he subtly flips off Richie.

“Mikey!” Richie shouts as their friend exits his parents’ car. The lanky eighteen year old is now standing on top of the van with arms spread out and a wide smile adorning his features.

Stan rolls his eyes at Richie but smiles at Mike. “Hey, Mikey.”

“Hi, Stan,” Mike says, pulling him into a tight hug. It takes Stan by surprise, eyes widening for a split second before he’s hugging back. All the while, he’s trying to not freak out, and hopes that Mike can’t feel his quickened heartbeat.

“Oh, alright. Ignore me for Stan the Man – I’m just chopped liver, aren’t I? Well, fu- uh. Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Hanlon, how are you on this fine night?” Richie chuckles nervously and stuffs his hands into his shorts’ pockets. He moves back and forth on his feet as he looks down at Mike’s parents, acting as if wasn’t about to cuss out his friends.

Will Hanlon politely smiles at the teen. “We’re doing good, Richie. How are you?”

“I’m great. On top of the world, one could say!”

“You be careful up there now, understand?” Jessica Hanlon says after greeting Stan with a hug and a kiss on the cheek; Stan just waves at Mike’s dad, who smiles and waves back.

Richie nods. “Yes, ma’am, I will.“

“I’ll be sure to push him off the edge,” Stan jokes.

Mike laughs. “Hey, we don’t need Richie being injured just yet.”

“Yet?” Richie echoes, offended. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?!”

Neither boy gets to answer, because Jessica is speaking again. “Are Maggie and Went inside, Richie?”

“Yes, ma’am, they are. Probably canoodling, or something, or crying about their favorite child leaving.”

“You’re full of it today, Rich,” Stan says.

“Mike, don’t forget the brownies and cookies,” Will reminds his son as he and his wife walk to the front door, his words keeping Richie from blurting out anything remotely sexual back at his best friend.

“The infamous Mrs. Hanlon’s sweets!” Richie shouts. He rubs his hands together and Mike is half reminded of a fly. “Give me one, please, Mikey?”

Mike shakes his head as he grabs two tupperware boxes. He gives them to Stan, who lifts them up to try and look at the contents through the somewhat see-through plastic. “Not until we get on the road. Sorry, man,” Mike says, looking genuinely guilty. He’s then getting the other two boxes and shits the car door with his foot.

“Buzz kill.”

“Lay off him, Rich.”

“Two buzz kills!”

“Eddie’s here.”

“Where?” Richie spins around to look down the street both ways. He nearly trips over his own two feet but steadies himself, not noticing how both Stan and Mike hurry forward in case he doesn’t. A soft breeze passes by them; it ruffles up Stan’s and Richie’s curls, and makes Richie’s ugly bright green Hawaiian shirt sway. There’s no car, though. No sign of their hypochondriac or fiery redhead or their favorite clubhouse builder. He visibly pouts and looks down at Stan through his glasses. “Fucking _rude_, dude.”

“Whoops. Sorry.” But he’s not – at least Stan sounds and looks; a flat voice and amusement in his eyes.

Mike softly chuckles. “Everyone will get here soon, man, don’t sweat it.”

Richie moves to sit back down on the top of the van as the other two situate the sweets, and then together the maneuver Mike’s luggage in the trunk, leaving his backpack and all out until they decide who’s driving. After that, Mike and Stan climb to the top of the van and sit on either side of Richie as they wait for the remaining four. The conversation between them flows easily, sharing what they’re excited about and making plans to have a prank war at some point.

+++

“This _stupid_ potholes.”

Ben turns around from the passenger’s seat and looks at Beverly and Eddie, the two facing each other in the back of Freya’s car as the boy attempts to finish the girl’s nails on the car ride to Richie’s. Ben shifts around to look easier and peers at Bev’s nails on her left hand.

“Doesn’t look bad, Ed,” Ben tells his friend. “Considering how many potholes we’ve gone over in the past two minutes.”

“I’m trying to avoid them, I swear,” Freya speaks from her spot in the driver’s seat, sounding just as annoyed as Eddie. “Stupid Derry won’t repave any of the roads!”

Eddie sighs in frustration as they hit another pothole. Both him and Bev attempt to stay as still as possible to avoid getting green nail polish all over her fingers. “They look like crap,” he mumbles.

“They look good!” Bev assures. “Better than what I could’ve done in this situation, honestly.”

Eddie gives her a look of disbelief but doesn’t say anything.

“Certainly better than me, that’s for sure,” Ben tells him.

“You’ve painted her nails before,” Eddie states.

“Not in a moving car on a pothole filled road.”

The short teen rolls his eyes. Ben notices that he tried to hide a smile, but he still sees it anyway. Ben looks over to Bev, and blinks as she quickly turns away from having been caught looking at him. Ben bites back his own smile as some pink fists across her cheeks, red curls touching her chin and hiding part of her face. All he really wants to do is push the strands out of the way to get a better look at her.

He doesn’t. Instead, he focused back on Eddie concentrating hard. Just as he finally finishes, Bev’s aunt is stopping the car. Ben turns around properly to see that they are stopped on the side of the road just before the Tozier mailbox. It doesn’t take long at all for him, Eddie and Bev to scurry out of the car and up to where the van is parked.

“Told you they’d be here soon,” Ben hears Mike say to Richie, who flicks Mike in the forehead. That earns Richie a slap in the back of the head from Stan. Ben smiles fondly at them as he stops at the side of the van.

“Why are you on top of the van?” Ben asks.

“Why aren’t _you_?” Stan retaliates.

Ben nods, his smile growing. “Good point,” he laughs.

“My Eds!” Richie suddenly shouts and stands, arms thrown out.

Ben spins around to see the end of Eddie flinching at the sudden shout from Richie.

Eddie turns around from pulling out his things from Freya’s car and flares at Richie. “I’m not your anything, and that isn’t my name! And what the hell are you doing standing on top of the van?! You could break something if you fall, dipshit!”

Ben walks back to the car, passing Freya on the way as the woman goes inside, and gets his stuff out, tubing out Richie’s and Eddie’s loud bickering as he does so. He freeze though, glancing beside him at Bev leaning against the car with a vague pout.

“You okay, Bev?”

She lifts her head and looks at him. “Hm? Oh, yeah! Just... Can’t get my things because of my nails.” As if to prove it, she lifts up both hands, wiggling her fingers.

Ben gets his pillow last and carefully sets it on top of his suitcase. “I’ll get yours, don’t worry about it.”

“What? No, I- my stuff is heavy, Ben, and if I’m careful I can lift it on my own.”

He shakes his head and starts getting Bev’s things. “It’s really no problem. I did help you put them in the car, by the way. Plus, you don’t want to mess up Eddie’s hard work, do you?”

“Damn right she doesn’t,” Eddie butts in to grab his own pillow. “I’ll have your head if you do, Marsh. Oh my God, Richie stop acting like you’re gonna jump off of the van or I’ll push you myself! Stan, don’t you dare actually push him!”

Ben and Bev glance at each other as Eddie rushes over to the van. They share a silent look – _idiots_, that’s what Richie and Eddie are – and let out small laughs.

“Thanks, Ben,” Bev says a few minutes later when her, Eddie’s and Ben’s luggage are placed in the trunk, backpacks and pillows in their claimed seats inside the van.

He shrugs. “No problem, Bev.”

“I’d totally give you a hug but...” She lifts her hands again.

“You can just give me one later,” he finds himself saying. It surprises him, and he quickly tries to backtrack. “Not- not that you have to! Just, uh, y’know, I- it’s just a hug, I mean, and obviously you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t- don’t really need one, either, but- fuck, I’m not saying I don’t want a hug, because hugs are nice! They’re _really_ nice! Um. I-.”

“Ben.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay,” Bev tells him with a small smile.

“Oh, alright. Good.” He relaxed then, and nods, and smiles back.

Then she’s turning around and is demanding help from Richie and Mike to get on the roof of the van - Eddie's already up there - and Ben stays by the closed trunk in attempt to stop his fast beating heart. A few months ago, he genuinely believed that he was over the crush on Bev. At the time, he thought it was true. It hit him rather quickly that it wasn’t. That it _isn’t_. And now, with Bev under the moonlit and starlit sky and a single street lamp casting an orange glow that causes her red hair to stick out beautifully and sits on her skin wonderfully, he can’t help but think that he might even be falling in love.

He shakes his head at the thought. He can’t be in love with Bev; can’t date her, either. She’s Bill’s ex. Sure, they’re friends – best friends, all of them – but a part of him still feels bad for even bringing up a possibility of dating her.

Then, he’s pushing those thoughts away and gets on top of the van, too, staying clear of the middle where Richie stands, holding Eddie hostage in his arms as a form of a hug.

“Bill’s officially late,” Mike announces as he catches a glimpse of the time on Stan’s watch. “It’s two minutes passed nine.”

“Just say nine-oh-two, Mikey, it’s simpler,” Richie says, still holding onto Eddie, albeit not as tightly and neither are standing anymore. He’s sitting down with Eddie between his legs, back to chest, Richie’s long arms around the smaller teen. And Eddie doesn’t look annoyed; rather comfortable and content, and Ben is reminded of the hundreds of times they shared the hammock in the underground clubhouse. His eyes move between the two and then finds himself looking back to Bev, who’s sitting near the back. They both look back at Richie and Eddie before meeting eyes again, sharing another look.

Mike flips Richie off, turning his head to smile sickeningly sweet. “No.”

Richie returns the gesture. "Fuck a cactus," he says, sounding equally sickeningly sweet.

"Ladies first, Tozier."

Stan rolls his eyes and reaches behind him to slap Richie's foot, and then gently backhands Mike's shoulder. No one gets a chance to say anything else, because right then the familiar Denbrough car is coming down the road and parking behind Bev's aunt's car. A small figure jumps out first, which causes Richie to rip himself away from Eddie and get down from the top of the van. 

"Georgie!" Richie exclaims as he runs over, passing Bill completely to get to the youngest Denbrough brother.

"Richie!" Georgie shouts back equally excited.

Even from the top of the van, Ben can see Bill's offended look; and by the laughs of the others, they can see it too. Everyone gets off of the van then to greet Bill, and help pack the things into the trunk. Mike gets to Bill first, pulling their friend into a hug and pressing a friendly kiss to the top of his head before pulling away. Then Stan and Eddie trap Bill into a hug sandwich as Mike explains how Bill is late - "By three fucking m-minutes, dude!" - before they step away and let Bev greet him. Ben looks else where in that moment, and finds himself watching Richie as the lanky guy runs around the yard with Georgie on his back.

"P-Pretty sure he loves Georgie more than me," Bill jokes as he walks up to Ben, a soft smile on his face as he looks at the two as well.

Ben looks at him. "Honestly, that's possible," he teases.

Bill scoffs and rolls his eyes, and pulls the taller eighteen year old into a hug. "Shut the fuck up," he says fondly.

+++

Stan watches through the windshield at the parents saying goodbye to their children. (It’s nearing nine-thirty, meaning they've got to leave soon if they want to get to their destined motel before two in the morning). They situated all the seating arrangements for the time being once the Losers all had their fair share of Georgie Denbrough hugs and loving; Stan and Richie ended up switching spots for the only reason that whoever is driving needs someone to check the map - something of which Stan has and isn't letting any of the others keep - so, really, they had to switch.

After making sure that no one is forgetting anything, the goodbyes to the families have started, and Stan is honestly glad that neither of his parents are there. They already had their tearful goodbyes and hugs; he actually urged them to head back home after they dropped him off at Richie's. He watches as the Toziers try not to cry in front of one another, and Freya hugging Bev; both are wiping tears from under their eyes as they pull away. Then there are the Denbroughs; Zach and Sharon are rattling off important things that Bill needs to remember, the teen comforting Georgie the best he could. Then there are the Hanlons - dry eyes but bittersweet smiles and words of good luck. The only others who aren't saying goodbye to a familiar member is Eddie, who's in the middle of the row of seats right behind the driver's and passenger's, and Ben, who went inside earlier to use the bathroom.

"I wish my dad were here," Eddie suddenly blurts out, yanking Stan away from people watching.

Stan turns his head to Eddie with a frown. The boy doesn't talk much about his dad at all, meaning none of the Losers have really heard much about Frank Kaspbrak. All they know is that the guy _really_ liked cars, and because of that Eddie got into liking cars, too. "What makes you say that?" Stan asks. And, well, the answer is kind of obvious but it's better than saying _I'm sorry _or nothing at all_._

Eddie shrugs and leans back against the seat, brown eyes moving over their friends still outside of the van. "I don't know," he whispers. "Just...wish I had a cool dad, I guess."

"All dads are lame," Stan says. "Horrible humor, sometimes emotionless, terrible fashion taste. But, hey, you can borrow my dad sometime. He'll force you to listen to jazz, though, just a warning."

At the small smile that comes from his friend, Stan lets himself smile too. "I don't think borrowing dads is a thing."

"Should be," Stan says. "Imagine borrowing Went for a day."

Eddie's smile grows. "A dentist? No thanks, the guy'll force me to floss after every meal! Imagine borrowing Mr. Hanlon?"

"He'd just put us to work. Endless dad jokes, too." He pauses. "Mr. Denbrough?"

"I love him, but he's boring. Bill says he just watches sports."

"Okay, so _maybe_ borrowing dads shouldn't be a thing."

As they both laugh, the back doors are sliding open and Ben is going to the row of seats behind Eddie. "You guys excited?" He asks, leaning on one of the head rests in front of him.

Eddie nods quickly. "Definitely. I can't wait until we pass that 'Leaving Derry' sign."

"You can say that again," Bev's voice meets their ears as she climbs in to sit beside Eddie, smiling kindly at Ben. She sits criss cross apple sauce in the seat and holds her pillow to her chest. "Why are we leaving at night again?"

"Because we wanted to leave as soon as possible but also didn't want to cut time with family too short," Stan answers.

She just nods, and then soon enough everyone else is getting into the van. Bill gets into the driver's seat; he refuses to let anyone else drive on the first night, and Mike gets into the back with Ben while Richie sits on the other side of Eddie. After making sure that everyone is situated with their seatbelts buckled, they leave the drive way, hands sticking out of the windows to wave by their parents, and Bill drives them out of the neighborhood at a safe pace, only to speed up the moment he's out of it and Richie unbuckles his seat belt and leans up front, eliciting shouts from almost everyone.

"What the fuck, Richie?!" Eddie yells.

Richie doesn't say anything back, and instead points to the glove compartment while looking at Stan. "We need music, buddy," he says to him.

Stan gives him a look. "Will you put your seatbelt back on if I help you?"

"Maybe."

He smiles - a small one but a smile nonetheless - and opens the glove compartment, eyebrows raising at how many homemade cassette tapes and protected CDs. "Uh... Which one?"

Richie leans forward more and points to one of the cassette tapes. "The mixtape that says, 'Finally leaving Derry'."

Stan nods and swats Richie away like a fly. He grabs the desired mixtape and holds it up until Richie's sitting back properly with the seatbelt on, and Stan chuckles when Eddie whacks him upside the head for unbuckling it in the first place. He finally puts it in. Bill then turns up the music as the familiar guitar riffs of 'Should I Stay or Should I Go' by The Clash fills the van, foot pushing harder on the pedal as they get closer to leaving Derry.

Finally, they pass the Leaving Derry, Come Back Soon! sign, and the graduates all share matching grins of excitement.

They all seem to simultaneously breathe out a breath of air, relieved to finally be leaving their hometown. Richie soon starts to dance in his seat as he belts out the lyrics to the song with Mike and Bev, and Ben gets out Bill's camera after asking for permission and takes a photo that's destined to be blurry as shit once it develops properly. Eddie's vaguely annoyed at first but soon joins in, and Stan just bobs his head along to the music as Bill does his best to not wreck the van within the first ten minutes of getting on the road; but he's still smiling and laughing at his friends. He can already tell that the trip is going to be filled with fun times. And, well, he hopes that's all there is.


	2. Massachusetts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers have some fun in the state of "Massive Two Shits" - as pronounced by Richie, Bev, and Bill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, like. First thing: I changed Stenbranlon to Hanbrough & Stanpat because honestly I fell in with Stanpat, and also i just want Patty in this. Second thing: I'm so glad people are liking this so far?? I didn't think much of anyone was going to read this, but the few comments I've gotten have made me really happy so, thanks for that!! Third thing: Stan still likes MIke right now but as I get closer to introducing Patty, that'll change; I'm just saying this so no one gets confused. Final thing: I edited/read over this at midnight, so if there are any errors I missed, just ignore them lmao
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!!

The three hour car ride is filled with blasting music, singing along to said music, and talking nonstop from everyone over said music. Bill does a decent job of driving; he unnecessarily speeds, cutting down time immensely, and Stan keeps on telling him, "You're going _ twenty _ over the speed limit, _ slow the fuck down_!" 

But with Richie proclaiming that everyone speeds on the interstate, Bev urging Bill to pass anyone who's going "too slow" in the dark of the night, and Mike standing through the opened sunroof to act as if he's flying, Stan's urges for Bill to slow down goes unheard. Even Eddie tries to talk some sense into Bill. It isn't until Ben says something about cops that Bill finally does so. Only a little bit, though; not much at all, but enough to make a difference that makes Stan relax the littlest bit.

They make it to Boston, Massachusetts just ten minutes before one in the morning, and pull up to a cheap Holiday Inn fifteen minutes later. Bill, Stan and Mike are the ones to go in and ask the front desk person for the cheapest room possible for seven wired on excitement eighteen year olds; meanwhile the remaining four stay in the parked van as they finish the game of “I’m going on a trip” without the others.

“I’m going on a trip to Canada and I’m bringing a cat, a map, Eddie’s mom, a blanket, cigarettes, a walkman, Mr. Chips, Georgie, coffee, a lighter, a winter coat, board games, a tiger, Mike’s Grandma’s homemade chocolate pie, shoes, Stan’s pillow, condoms, a first aid kit, and uh... Binoculars!” Bev grins, proud of herself for remembering everyone else’s items and turns to Ben. “You’re turn.” 

Ben sucks in a breath of air and let’s it out. “I feel so pressured, oh my god,” he whispers before speaking louder, smiling almost shyly as the others laugh. “Alright, uh, I’m going on a trip to Canada and I’m bringing a cat, a map, Eddie’s mom, a blanket, cigarettes, a walkman, Mr. Chips... Shit. Georgie! And coffee, and a tiger-.” 

“You skipped two!” Eddie shouts. He’s pointing at Ben with a large smile, and is obviously too happy that someone has messed up.

Bev playfully whacks Eddie’s shoulder as Richie laughs. “Hey, be nice to Ben,” she defends him. “He did his best. Besides, it’s a miracle any of us made it as far as we did in the game.”

Eddie pouts and rubs his shoulder, acting as if Bev genuinely hit him. “Meanie.”

Bev snorts out a laugh. Richie leans to the side and gets close to Eddie, pinching the shorter boy’s cheek. “Oh, don’t be such a baby, Eds! What, are we gonna have to swaddle and rock you so you don’t cry?”

His expression quickly pinches into annoyance and Eddie swats Richie’s hands away, and shoves him – not too hard, but hard enough to get Richie out of his personal space bubble. “Fuck off!” Eddie yells. “I’m _ not _ a baby!” His cheeks are tinged pink, and while Richie just chalks it up to be Eddie’s anger, Bev knows full and well it’s not.

She covers her mouth with one hand to hide her smile, and she leans her elbow against the back of her seat. Her blue eyes quickly move from the two boys in the row of seats with her to the one sitting behind her. She’s acutely surprised to see him already looking at her, eyebrows moving up the slightest bit. Ben’s eyes widen and he looks away, and he clears his throat quietly as his face reddens. Bev removes her hand and rests her chin on top of the headrest, smiling, ignoring Richie and Eddie who are both now play fighting.

The thought of Ben liking her back worms it’s way into her brain. She quickly shoves the thought away, though, and sadly remembers how he _ used _ to like her. As in, not anymore. She then pushes that thought away, and decides to just talk with Ben.

“How’re you liking the trip so far?” She moves to get into a more comfortable position. Her chin stays on the top of the headrest, and she undoes her seatbelt so she can turn fully around, arms wrapping around the bottom of the headrest as she sits on her knees.

Ben looks back at her, eyes still wide. “Hm? _ Oh_, uh.” He shrugs and smiles. “I’m really liking it, yeah. It’s nice – fun, too.”

“That’s good. Same here.” She stops. Eddie’s body leans against hers for a moment before he gets pulled away by Richie, the lanky teen trapping the other in a koala-like hug.

“Take back what you said about Bowie! Do it, or you’re dying via the Tozier’s bone crushing hug!”

Eddie laughs and wiggles. He’s barely trying to get away from Richie, not at all doing is best. Because he can get away if he wants to – all of them know that. “Suck a dick, Richie! I just said he wasn’t my favorite! I’d pick Elton John over him any day!”

“_That’s it_! Prepare to die, Kaspbrak!”

“Not until you drop dead first, Tozier!”

Bev moves her eyes away from them as she rolls them, and they land back on Ben who’s shaking his head at their friend’s antics. “They’re something else, aren’t they?” She asks, keeping her voice low.

Ben meets her eyes again. “If they’re not dating by the end of this,” he whispers, “I’m locking them in the clubhouse back in Derry and not letting them out.”

She snickers. “I’ll help.”

“I’d like that.”

“Really?”

He smiles, looking a bit shy now, but hums in confirmation and nods. “Of course I would.”

Her own smile grows into a wide grin that showcases her teeth. There’s a faint blush on her cheeks, and she hopes that it’s unnoticeable in the dim light. “Good. Great.”

One of the side doors to the van is suddenly pulled open, startling Bev and Ben, yanking the two from their little bubble. They turn their heads to the now opened door and peer around Richie and Eddie to see Mike standing there with a happy smile.

“We’ve got a room! C’mon, guys.”

The four eighteen year olds are then piling out of the car, and they grab everything they need for the night, along with Stan's and Bill's things so they don't have to come back out to the van. 

The room isn't the biggest. It's small and with all of their suitcases on the ground, there is barely any room to walk; the room becomes a maze of sorts, and the Losers have to jump over their friends and the luggage to get to the one bathroom they have to share. Then there are two double sized beds and a chair that pulls out into a small twin mattress. It's not the best, and it's certainly not ideal, but they make it work.

Bill absolutely refuses to pick a place to sleep until everyone else has a place, meaning he ends up with the space between the two beds on a makeshift pallet that Eddie makes for him with whatever extra hotel blankets they can find. Bev and Stan end up sharing the bed closest to the bathroom, and then Ben and Mike share the bed near the AC, and finally Richie and Eddie get the small pull out. 

None of it is awkward. It's something they're used to, something they've always done. There's even a time when they were fifteen when they all got into a dog pile to cuddle one night, and they all fell asleep like that. So, sharing beds is the norm. It's almost expected at this point and they're so used to it, which is why at some point during the night Bill sluggishly makes his way into the bed with Mike and Ben, neither boy disturbed or frustrated that another body has joined them.

+++

Stan isn't a morning person. It's not that he doesn't like the mornings - because he does, a lot - but it's more of the fact that it takes a while for him to wake up, and if people don't give him his time and space, the person will most likely get either a death glare or harshly snapped at. He knows the same thing goes for Eddie - the spitfire is always harsh and snippy until he's downed some coffee, and he just doesn't like waking up early - and so they're two peas in a pod when morning comes. 

Bev can arguably not be a morning person as well, but she, like Stan, just takes a while to wake up. She's just not verbal. So, during the early morning hours of breakfast and checking out and getting their things together for the day, the three of them stay by each other, knowing neither of the two beside them will mess with them too much.

Stan leans against the van beside the opened door with crossed arms and a blank, tired look. It's currently early in the morning, because apparently beforehand he had thought that getting up earlier to have more daylight during their day was a fantastic idea.

Of course, when that idea came to him, he hadn't thought about how grumpy both he and Eddie are in the mornings, and how nonverbal Beverly gets. Or how _ annoying _ Mike and Ben are, because they're both very much morning people, talking and laughing and being their usual selves, but somehow it's incredibly annoying. Meanwhile, there's Richie and Bill; neither morning people nor not morning people. Just...two teen boys functioning like zombies until they are awake enough who won't snap your head off if you confront them.

Stan casts his eyes to the side as Ben laughs at something Mike says to him as they put the suitcases back into the trunk. He frowns, crosses his arms tighter over his chest, and rolls his eyes. He tries to tell himself that the feeling in his chest is just his usual morning mood, not him becoming jealous at the simple fact that Mike is laughing with someone else. He sighs and half heartedly rolls his eyes at himself, tuning most of everyone out.

Currently, Richie and Bill are back on top of the van, just laying there until further notice. Eddie is sitting on the edge of the seat in front of the opened van door, staring - correction: glaring - at nothing in particular with a cup of shitty hotel coffee clenched in both hands. Bev is behind him, eyes closed, a half eaten cinnamon muffin on her stomach as she just lays in the row of seats. No one is quite lively at the moment, with the exception of the two morning people. For now, the excitement of everything has dwindled down. Though, Richie is talking Bill's ear off. His words are just slow and lazily spoken as if he's high. Stan knows that's about to change, both because as time passes by everyone is waking up more and more and also because he can hear Richie's words get livelier.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Mike asks suddenly.

It takes a moment, but Stan is quickly realizing that Mike is talking to him. Not Bill or Ben, or even Richie. But him. Stan turns his head to look at Mike, who has the kindest smile on his face despite the early hour, and his dark eyes are directly looking into his own. Stan hopes that he isn't blushing, and shrugs before speaking. "I know there's a few parks and museums. Maybe even a zoo or an aquarium, but I don't know how expensive everything is."

"We should go to Salem!" Richie suddenly yells out, sitting up from his position on the van and peers down at Stan and Mike before the latter can even respond. He sends a subtle wink the Jew's way as Mike looks to Stan to see his reaction.

From inside, Beverly starts to groan in annoyance but cuts herself off. Suddenly she's behind Eddie and poking her head out, the boy looking way more than annoyed at the close proximity as she leans on him for support. "Salem Witches!" She yells, suddenly lively and awake and verbal. "Fuck yes, can we go Stan?"

"Is that Salem even in Massive Two Shits?" Bill asks, still waking up and obviously not caring about pronouncing Massachusetts correctly.

Richie giggles. "Massive Two Shits," he repeats.

"Fucking grow up, Rich," Eds grumbles.

"Oh, like you don't find Massive Two Shits funny."

"It's not."

"Kinda is," Bev butts in, earning a glare from Eddie and a loud thank you from Richie, accompanied by Bill's agreement.

Stan rolls his eyes fondly. "The Witch Trials did, in fact, happen in Salem, Massachusetts," he tells them.

"So can we go? It'll be fun! _ Oooh_, what if we get to see the exact spot where they hung the thirteen witches?"

"They're not real witches, Rich."

"Says who?"

"Says _ me_."

"Well fuck that, man."

"I will fucking fight y-."

"_Okay_!" Bill shouts over Eddie's threat and sits up. He quickly moves to lean over the edge of the top of the van like Richie. "Keep the b-b-bickering to a minimum, pluh-please, until we're all a little more awake. _ Please_."

When Eddie opens his mouth to talk back, Bill just looks at him and Eddie shuts his mouth, eyes going to Stan who gives him a _ Look_. One that he gets told is a lot like a parent getting onto their kid. So, of course the curly haired boy uses it when he needs to, because it always works in whatever situation. Eddie licks his lips and stays quiet, and hands Bev the rest of the coffee. Behind Stan, Mike is motioning to Richie to zip his lips for the time being. At noticing some movement, Stan looks up and watches Richie do the action back and toss the invisible key to Mike. He can't help but smile softly at the interaction after Mike 'catches' it.

"I say we go to Salem," Ben speaks up for the first time, sharing his opinion on the matter. "We might not ever get a chance again."

"But we're in _ Boston_," Eddie presses.

Stan frowns. "But things are also _ really _ fucking expensive here."

"If it were up to me, I'd skip Boston and go to Salem," Mike says. "Save the big city stuff for New York or something else. Besides, we can't spend all of our money in one place. We have a limited amount, so we gotta be smart about spending it. We only have one shot at this road trip."

"I'm w-with Mike. Do a few things there, it won't be too exp-p-pensive most likely, and just chill out."

Beverly, who is now sitting on the floorboard of the van by Eddie's feet, shitty cup of coffee between her thighs, asks, "Does going to Salem mess up with the route you made, Stan?"

The route. Stan certainly hasn't forgotten about it. It took months to get it right, to find roads that hit one major fun place in each state but to also find ways that wouldn't make them have to go through one state too many times. Eventually he got it right. It's the main reason he's in charge of the map, if anyone is being honest. He smiles, pleased that Beverly actually remembers it. "Depending on how far away Salem is, it shouldn't."

"I saw a sign on our way here for an exit for Salem. Think it's about..." Ben trails off and thinks for a moment. He then lights up some and nods. "fifteen-ish miles out of the city."

"Works for me," Bill says with a tiny shrug. "Work for y-you, Stan?"

Stan nods, appreciating how his friends are taking the route and all he made into consideration. He doesn't know why it's so surprising or so uplifting, but it is. "It does, yeah."

"G-Great! Everyone hop in, we can't waste away our day!"

+++

Beverly stays sitting up during the car ride, too excited to do much else. She's sitting in the same spot as the night before but instead of Richie and Eddie in the row of seats with her, it's actually Ben and Mike, the aforementioned boys sitting behind them while Bill drives once again, Stanley in the passenger's seat with the map. During the thirty minute ride, Beverly tries her best to not lean on Ben too much. At the same time though, she makes sure to not lean too far away on the sharper turns Bill takes that push her away from Ben. All the while, she's also trying to act as if sitting beside her crush isn't the main root of her excitement. It's hard, she'll admit, but it's also worth it. 

“What d’you think there is to do in Salem?”

She shrugs at Ben’s question. Then, she’s looking at him and smiling. “What if there are actually witches and they teach some _ magic_?” Her brows lift some. Obviously, that’s not going to happen. But a girl can dream, right?

Eddie scoffs from behind them. Mike, who’s talking to Stan and Bill about lunch plans, glanced behind him briefly to look at the other boy before focusing his attention back on the two up front. Bev turns some in her seat to look at Eddie properly, Ben doing the same; both are relatively surprised to see Richie fast asleep and sprawled out, head in Eddie’s lap. Beverly makes eye contact with Eddie and grins teasingly. The grin merely spreads as his cheeks turn a dark shade of pink.

She isn’t surprised when he ignores the look the best he can and says, “Witches aren’t real, Bev.”

“Okay, _ obviously_,” she says. “But it’d be cool if they were! Right, Ben?”

Ben looks taken back but he recuperates quickly. He’s then nodding and smiling, agreeing with the redhead beside him. “Uh, yeah! It would be pretty neat.”

“C’mon, Eddie, you can't deny the truth! If they were real, think of all the cool magic you would be able to see them do! Or, better yet, if _ you _ were a witch.”

“You would be able to have a cat – or another animal,” Ben tells him, knowing that will win him over in an instant. Eddie has always wanted a pet – more specifically a cat – his entire life. Unfortunately for him, his mom never let him get one.

And it works. Bev watches as Eddie’s eyes brighten and how his expression shifts from slightly bored to excited. “Okay, it’s official, I’d much rather _ be _ a witch than _ see _ one.”

“Good. Because I think you already have a cat.”

At his questioning look, Bev simply points to his lap where Richie’s head is resting with his lanky arms around Eddie’s waist and face close to his stomach. Eddie blushes deeply, unable to get a proper sentence out. He crosses his arms and averts his eyes away from his two friends just as Mike turns around to look as well.

“Shut up,” Eddie mumbles the same time Mike lets out an _ aw _ at the sight. Though, he’s clearly fighting back a smile, face hot and pink with blush.

“It’s _ cute_, Eddie,” Ben tells him.

Bev nods and smiles some more. “Adorable, actually.”

“Where’s Bill’s camera? We need a picture of this,” Mike says.

Eddie’s jaw drops. “No! No we don’t!”

“Don’t wake Richie up!” Bev whisper-shouts.

“Too late.”

Beverly covers her mouth with one hand as Eddie freezes up, but before anyone can say anything else the van is coming to a stop at a red light, and everyone’s attention is diverted to the windows. As she turns to look out of the window beside her, she catches Richie sit up from the corner of her eye. She’s tempted to look back just to see how much he’s blushing, but doesn’t. So, she keeps her eyes on the window. Even when Ben leans closer to her to look in the same direction, she doesn’t move. One of his arms go over the head rest and he sits up to look over her. 

“Massive Two Shits is actually really pretty,” Bev says, eyeing the scenery before them. The vehicle finally starts to move again, causing them to pass by trees and plants and a few other cars in a blur.

“It’s not when you call it ‘Massive Two Shits’,” Stan mumbles from the front seat.

“_But _” Richie starts, and Bev can hear his grin, “it is funny!”

“Massachusetts. Massive Two Shits. Whatever, same fucking thing here. Either way you say it, the state is still beautiful!” She exclaims with a smile, and motions outside.

“I have to agree,” Mike says.

“Me too,” Ben mutters.

She turns her head to look at him. At realizing how close the two of them are, she only inches back a little bit and gives him a warm smile, not thinking into too much detail about how he’s already looking at her. “Glad you agree, Ben.”

Mike sputters from his spot on the other side of Ben. “Hey!”

Bev laughs and leans to the side to look at him. “The same goes for you, Mikey.”

“Thank you.”

Not too long later, the Losers Club are officially in Salem, Massachusetts. Bill drives around for a few moments until he finds a café parking lot to park in. For a bit of time, the seven of them just sit and talk about what they can do in Salem - Mike got a brochure about the town from the front desk at the hotel they slept at the night before. Eventually, they settle on going their own ways for the first little bit of the trip. Eddie has to call his mom, Stan and Bill want to find something breakfast-like, and Bev, Ben, and Mike are content with just walking around for the time being. 

So, that’s what they do.

“Remember to meet up at the Derby Drawf Light Station in an hour!” Stan calls out to everyone as they part ways.

Bev happily links her arms with Ben’s and Mike’s, turning her head over to smile at him. “Don’t worry your corkscrew curls off, Stanny! We’ll be there.”

“You better be!”

+++

“That was_ the longest _twenty minutes of my life,” Richie complains as he and Eddie finally walk away from the payphone. 

“Well, you didn’t have to come along, y’know,” Eddie tells him.

Richie shrugs, smiles, and bumps his shoulder with Eddie’s. The smile just grows as the familiar warmth from just touching his crush went through him. “Wanted to,” he says simply. Then, “Besides, who knows _ what _ would’ve happened if I let you go alone. Talking to Mrs. K never turns out as good as it just did! She would’ve dragged you back home _ through the phone, _ but I would have stopped her! What’s the look for? I _ so _ would’ve saved you! Who needs Big Bill or Mikey? You’ve got Trashmouth Tozier, ready to keep you from her suffocating clutches at a moment’s notice!”

Eddie laughs and shakes his head, rolling his eyes after. “My knight in shining armor,” he says sarcastically. “You’re so dramatic.”

Richie can only stare down at him for a moment. The midmorning’s sun rays are hitting Eddie just right, causing his usual dark brown eyes to look a bit lighter - more golden, if anything - and his freckles stick a bit more already. Short brown hair is styled neatly but looks soft to the touch. To put it simply, Eddie Kaspbrak looks _ absolutely stunning _ \- which, hey, isn’t that big of a difference from any other day in Richie’s eyes, but still - and it’s taking everything in Richie to not reach over and kiss him. 

So, he holds himself back. He forces himself to look in front of him instead of at his crush. He stuffs his hands in his cargo shorts’ pockets and says, “You’re the one who just mentioned a knight in shining armor, Eds, I merely said I can save you.”

“It’s the fucking same thing, dickhead! And seriously? ‘Eds’? We’ve talked about this, it’s not my name!”

“And it ain’t goin’ away, sweetcheeks, it’s been fourteen goddamn years,” he responds with in the best country accent he can muster up. It’s better than it has been, he knows, but it’s still not perfect.

It’s silent for a moment. And then, “Has it really been fourteen years?”

Richie nearly stops in his tracks. Actually, he does. He blinks, thinking about it, and then his brows raise. “Huh. It has, yeah.” It’s mind boggling, to be honest, to think about how long he’s been friends with Eddie, and even with Stan and Bill. Fourteen years. Nearly their entire lives.

“Never really… It doesn’t seem like it,” Eddie says and faces Richie. “Well, I mean, it does, in a sense, but. Like. I dunno.”

Richie chuckles. “Eloquent as ever, Spaghetti.”

“Fuck off. I mean, I… It just feels like I’ve known everyone else the same amount of time, when reality we’ve only known Bev, Ben, and Mike for six years. Not fourteen. It’s weird.”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“You do?” 

“Yeah.” A beat of silence. “I feel like you should be telling me to fuck off by now.”

Eddie rolls his eyes with a fond smile and turns on his heels to walk away, giving Richie the bird as he did so. Richie starts walking as well, merely watching Eddie with what he knows Stan would describe as ‘heart eyes’ if he were there with them. So, when Eddie starts to speed up and start to jog, Richie notices instantly. He doesn’t have time to question Eddie, because suddenly the shorter boy is dashing away, Richie barely catching his words.

“Race ya to the light station!”

Richie sputters and quickly starts to run. “Th- _ what _?! This isn’t fair, Eds, you were on the track team! Plus, you’re cheating - didn’t even count to three! Get fucking back here, asshole, we’re starting over!”

They don’t start over.

Richie doesn’t care, though. He is just happy to be able to spend some time with Eddie, to see the other laugh and have fun and be actually carefree. And he’s happy the he feels the same way. No school projects or assignments are looming over them, no deadlines for anything, no bullies, no suffocating Sonia Kaspbrak who hates every single one of Eddie’s friends except for maybe Bill – because, weirdly, a lot of adults love Bill – and they just aren’t in Derry anymore. 

It’s nice. Fun. _ Freeing_. It’s a breath of fresh air.

Richie tries to catch up with Eddie. The fucker was on the track team with Ben, and unfortunately for Richie, his long legs can’t exactly keep up; he isn’t athletic in the slightest. He was a stupid band kid during high school. And he _ really _ wants to catch up. He just _ can’t_. So, he slows to a jog, letting out a quiet groan and some unkind words about how stupid the amount of energy running takes, and eventually just settles for a fast paced walk. The heat of the summer sun doesn’t help anything.

A few people are looking at him, and Eddie, oddly. But it’s not the bad odd – more confused, if anything, about two old teens running around as the curse one another out jokingly. They aren’t in Derry anymore. People aren’t so blatant about how weird and possibly stupid it is to see two friends genuinely have some fun.

Richie shrugs the looks off and continues his fast walking. “Eddie! C’mon, man, I’m not a runner like you!” He huffs and stops walking to lean against one of the buildings to catch his breath better. Not too long later, Eddie is standing in front of him with a cocky smirk. Richie chuckles and gently pushes his face away, causing Eddie to stumble backwards a step. “You’re a little bitch.”

Pushing him away is more for his own benefit, if anything. Because Eddie has gone from _ absolutely stunning _ to _ really fucking hot _ within moments. His hair is a slight mess, some of it pushed back at the front and a few strands sticking in different directions thanks to the wind from how fast he ran, and he’s a bit sweaty but not much. His skin is flushed and he’s breathing heavily, too. It takes all of Richie’s willpower to not do anything. To push that inter turmoil of “I want to jump my best friend’s bones but I can’t for obvious reasons and it sucks” away.

Eddie laughs and shoves Richie’s hand off of him. “And you’re a lazy bitch,” he retaliates with.

At first, for a split second, Richie’s confused. But then—

_ Right_, Richie reminds himself, _ I called him a little bitch. _

He grins. “You betcha!”

“Alright, c’mon, let's cool off. Wanna go in this store for a few minutes?”

“You think we have time?”

“_You _ are worried about time?”

“Eds, I love you, but I don’t wanna face Stan’s wrath already just one day into the road trip.”

“Just five minutes? Please? It’ll be fun!” And then Eddie is doing the puppy dog eyes. For the full effect, he even sticks out his bottom lip a little bit.

Richie groans. “Okay! Sheesh, _ fine_, no need to bring out the puppy eyes.”

Richie doesn’t have time to feel bad, to even think about how late they might actually be, because right then and there, Eddie is grinning from ear to ear and dragging him by the wrist into the little shop they are standing by.

+++

Mike holds the Polaroid camera safely in his hands. Before they all left the van, he had asked Bill if he can use it and take a few pictures. Bill had agreed, so long as Mike didn’t break it or ruin anything. He’s only taken one picture so far, and it’s of Bev and Ben standing together by the tiny, white square building of a lighthouse near some water. The two didn’t notice he took the picture, both too engrossed non whatever they were talking about to notice but they also had looked relaxed. Happy, wide grins and fond eyes paired with the scenery of the Light Station makes for a good picture. 

Now, Mike is just wondering when in the hell his two friends are going to get their sit together and date, because he knows Ben’s statement of being over Bev had been a lie those months ago whether he realized it or not. And Bev clearly feels the same way. Mike just doesn’t know for sure how long _ that’s _ been a thing, but it’s a thing nonetheless. Everyone already has to deal with Richie and Eddie, they don’t need another oblivious blooming relationship. Or else, Stan might just rip his hair out from how stupid their friends are being, and Mike, despite loving his friends, can certainly relate to that feeling.

He smiles to himself, content. So, maybe four out of the seven of them need to figure out some things before they make Stan lose his mind, but he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. They’re all together. Happy. Currently having a grand time on a road trip that just started. The nerves that he had felt just the day before are gone for the most part. He doesn’t have a worry, right now.

He lifts the camera to take a picture of the horizon, but stops himself right as he’s about to as two familiar voices meet his ears.

“—and, like, it’s gonna take the entire day but I think I’ve figured out what to do. We can walk to these spots, which takes from five to ten minutes if I did the math right, and I think we’ll have more fun as a group.”

“SSS-Sounds really fun, man. The others are gonna be excited.”

Mike turns and spots Stan and Bill right away, walking close together as the former holds a pamphlet. Bill has a large coffee in one hand, and with the other he’s pointing to something. Mike just stared at them both for a moment. Then, he lifts his camera and takes a picture. The film slides out and he grabs it before it can fall just as both Stan and Bill look at him from hearing the shutter of the camera. Stan’s ears turn the slightest bit pink, and Bill grins wide.

“What w-was that f-for?” Bill asks.

Mike smiles and shrugs. “I just wanted to take a picture of you two. Also got one of Ben and Bev earlier,” he tells him. Then, he’s handing one picture to Bill and the other to Stan. “Here.”

The honest truth is that Mike just wanted to take a picture of Bill – don’t get him wrong, he loves Stan to pieces – because he looks _ great_. Not only in the sense of attractiveness but also in the way where he seems relaxed. Calm, even. Nothing’s bothering him. He’s just having fun with his friends, something Mike hadn’t truly seen since they were kids.

The stress of senior year had all eaten them up. Not one of them had been put together well during those horrendous months of their last high school year. Each of them had to calm Eddie down from a panic attack at least twice because the poor boy was so worried about not passing, not being able to get away from his mom. Stan shut down a few times, causing the Losers to then help him time and time again. Bev had a mental break down after Christmas break and chopped her hair again and even dyed it blue until the school made her dye it back to a ‘normal’ color. 

Out of the seven of them, Ben, Mike, and Richie seemed like the better collected of them all, which is far from the truth. Richie had been tempted to drop out, and Mike had given a good ‘you made this far, you can make another few months’ speech to him; Mike is pretty sure the others said something similar to him at some point. Ben had started to go to parties pretty often just to find something to help him relax in between major assignments – alcohol, generally. And between football at the beginning of the school year and school in general, Mike was pretty keyed up as well.

Then there’s Bill. He couldn’t relax once, too stressed and worried about anything and everything, and he probably slept the least out of all of them. Mike’s surprised he didn’t turn out being 72% coffee. It was honestly a crazy experience for all of them. One they don’t want to relive, but one they will because, yes, college is a thing that they’re going to do.

But right now, Bill isn’t stressed. Sure, Mike knows that he misses Georgie a shit ton, who Bill is also bound to worry about, no doubt, but he’s not on his third cup of coffee already from lack of sleep. He’s not scowling from stress, or even showing an ounce of any negativity. Mike smiles more at noticing that, and glances at Stan as he leaves the two for Ben and Beverly who are starting to walk over.

Bill smiles fondly at the picture Mike took. “This is a g-good photo, Mike.” His blue eyes then lift and lock with Mike’s brown ones. But he quickly diverges his stare, cheeks tingeing pink.

Mike chuckles softly. “Thanks, Bill.”

And, alright, Mike isn’t dumb. He can read people. He knows himself. He has a crush on Bill, who likes him back - if the blushing and nervous laughs and that kiss from New Year’s are anything to go by - and you may be wondering: why aren’t you dating, then? Simple answer: Mike also can tell _ Stan _ likes him - if the blushing and tiny nervous smiles and lingering stares are anything to go by - which puts him in a predicament. Because Mike only likes Stan as a friend; he likes Bill. So, naturally, Mike doesn’t want to hurt Stan in anyway. If Stan didn’t like Mike, though… 

Mike would have asked Bill out by now.

But also there’s this thing called homophobia (or, well, biphobia), so maybe that’s a lie.

So scratch what was said earlier, _ all seven _ of them need to figure out some things before someone loses their mind.

Beverly suddenly jumping on his back pulls Mike out of his thoughts. He catches her and stays balanced easily, and once Bill takes the camera from him, he securely puts his hands under her thighs to keep her up. The auburn haired boy is quick to snap a picture as Bev smacks a wet kiss onto Mike’s cheek. A grin spreads across his face.

“Aw, Bev, love you too,” he says laughing. Then, he turns his head and kisses her cheek, less went and more gentle.

She tightens her hold on him as a way to give him a hug. “You’re a sweetheart, Mikey.”

“Where’s Dumb and Dumber?” Stan asks. It’s not directed to anyone in particular, but because Bill and Ben are looking at the picture of Mike and Bev, Mike is the one to answer.

“No clue.”

Bev rolls her eyes. “They probably got distracted by something, knowing them,” she says.

“It probably wasn’t a good idea to let them walk alone,” Mike thinks aloud.

“Wait, who’s Dumb and Dumber in this situation?” Ben asks, looking between his friends. “I mean, they’re both pretty smart - Richie made straight A’s with ease.”

“The fucker was stressed for nothing,” Bev mumbles, and everyone nods in agreement.

“Eddie has more c-c-common sense, s-sometimes,” Bill speaks up.

“_Sometimes_,” Stan repeats, stressing the word to make a point. “But they need to hurry up. I said an hour, and it’s been an hour.”

“Give ‘em a few more minutes,” Mike says. “They’ll be here in no time.”

Richie and Eddie are not, in fact, there in no time. 

Twenty minutes later the two remaining Losers walk up. The look Stan gives them – and Mike, too – makes everyone laugh, and even Stan gives the tiniest of smiles so nothing is really taken too seriously. After Eddie shows them a crystal rock he bought, explaining in detail with fast words and very little breaths of air how ‘Witches’ use crystals for magic and different energies, they set off to go on with their day.

+++

The plan Stan – “Give it up for Stan the Man with the Plan, folks!” – came up with while he was with Bill had them going to seven different spots in Salem, all within walking distance, which doesn’t include the Derby Wharf Light Station.

They walk to the Salem Maritime National Historic Site. It isn’t a long walk at all, maybe ten minutes at most, but they spent about an hour at the 9-acre park. They don’t think that they’ll spend much time there – 30 minutes at most – but then they explore a few buildings and a ship or two and whatever a wharve is, and suddenly an hour has gone by. They go the Salem Witch Museum next, which is another ten minute walk, and all of them groan with relief at seeing it was inside a building. The group spends an even longer time in there. 

Upon arriving, they got a very dramatic re-telling and history lesson of what happened in 1692 with life-size props and such. Richie wants to complain for the sole reason he wasn’t expecting to learn anything, but he can’t because he’s too interested and invested along with his friends (Mike and Ben especially) as they figured out that the “witches” had been no different that the blacklisted Communists in the ‘50s and the Japanese-Americans in WWII who had been encamped. Then they learn some stuff about witches today, and witchcraft as well, and then they’re off to the Peabody Essex Museum (Richie makes a lot of crude jokes simply because of the word Es_sex_). By the time they get through the museum – it doesn’t take too long, especially with how fast they all walk and they don’t take too much time looking at the different things – they’re all starving.

The rest of the day is like that. Going to and from different popular sights in the town. After getting a cheap lunch, they do the Hocus Pocus Tour, visit a Witch House, go to the memorial for the Witch Trials and end everything with a wax museum because apparently Stan likes museums. They have fun the entire time. Bev buys a witch’s hat from a gift shop, which not so surprisingly suits her, and they got to see where the thirteen women were hung. There’s a continuous debate on whether or not witches are actually real the entire day - nothing serious, obviously.

By the time they are finished, the sun is starting to lower in the sky. Not drastically so, given that it’s only close to five, and everyone is tired from walking around everywhere. Ben and Stan lead the way, the two talking about something or another, and Mike is right behind them with Beverly on his back once again, the witch hat on her head. Eddie is walking beside them, and as he goes on about the various cool things in Salem, the other to listen carefully. Richie and Bill are taking up the end.

“Did you realize it’s been fourteen years since we first started being friends?” Richie asks suddenly, eyes on Eddie for a moment before moving to Stan, and then finally he looked to Bill.

Bill blinks for a moment. It takes a second for him to comprehend what Richie just said to him, but when it finally clicks, his mouth parts slightly. “Really?” That can’t be right. Can it? 

“Not the Losers, just… Us, and Stan and Eddie.”

Oh, that makes more sense. “That’s…” Bill can’t think of anything, so he just whistles lowly and mutters a, “Wow.” Then, “What the hell, that’s almost our enti-tire lives!”

“I know!” Richie exclaims back. “And like, what- who gets to say they’ve stayed friends with someone from elementary school? Or even _ middle _ school? It’s fucking crazy, man.”

“Dad told me a m-m-month or so ago that what we have is s-something sp-special,” Bill tells Richie. Briefly, he thinks to that day and how Zach Denbrough was even prompted to say that. 

At first Bill doesn’t remember, but then it all comes back to him in an instant. It had been after one of those rare occasions during the school year where they did an impromptu sleepover at the Denbrough household, all cooped up in Bill’s bedroom despite the size. Nothing dramatic happened. They laughed most of the time and played games, and everyone was reluctant to leave the next morning despite the fact they made plans to go to the clubhouse that afternoon. Once everyone was gone, Zack Denbrough stopped Bill, explained that not many people stayed best friends with one person from their younger years - let alone _ six _ \- and then went on to say that the seven of them had - _ have _ \- something special.

“Why did he have to word it as if we’re all dating?”

Bill rolls his eyes. “Who knows, maybe we are and w-w-we’re just too stu-stupid to realize it,” he jokes.

Richie laughs. “Wouldn’t that be something.” He pauses, dramatically _ of course _ . He then reaches over and Bill grins as Richie winks at him just as Richie puts his hand in one of Bill’s pockets. “_Babe_.” Then, he’s pulling out the keys and dashing to the van. “I’m driving! Everyone get in teh fucking car, we’re going to McDonald’s!”

Bill’s jaw drops for a second and then he’s laughing. “You f-f-f-_fucker_!”

“Oh, hell no!” Stan is then racing after their friend. “You’re not driving, Richie! I love you, but I _ do not _ trust your driving skills!”

“I’ve been driving longer than any of you shits!”

“Doesn’t equate to safe driving!” Eddie shouts, cupping his mouth.

“Says the one with the road rage,” Mike comments, earning a laugh from Ben and Bev, and the finger from Eddie.

Bill chuckles and steps beside Eddie while they walk the rest of the short distance. “It’s true, Eddie. Y-You have some b-b-b-bad road rage.”

“Whatever,” he mumbles.

None of them manage to talk Richie out of driving - and poor Stan tries so hard to get someone else to drive - so they all get into their respective seats, but Ben takes Richie’s old spot and Bill takes Ben’s (not so he can sit beside Mike. That’d be absurd!).

(...Okay, _ fine _ it’s so he can sit beside Mike but the others don’t need to know that).

Then _ finally_, they’re off to McDonald’s. They chant the fast food’s name for a solid thirty seconds until they realize they don’t know where a McDonald’s is. 

And that’s how they spend forty minutes driving around searching for one.


	3. Rhode Island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it's been one hell of a hot minute since i updated whoops, sorry for the wait!! life got in the way and then i had writer's block so,,
> 
> hope you enjoy! (i also hope everyone is staying safe and being smart during this corona pandemic x)

Ben wakes up half on the row of seats and half off, arm and leg hanging off and onto the floorboard of the van. A body is pressing against his own a little bit. He turns his head a little bit to see the back of Mike’s head. Mike is still asleep, laying on his side as he’s squished between Ben and the backrest of the seats, and they’re sharing Ben’s pillow, making them awfully close. At first Ben feels bad, but Mike doesn’t look uncomfortable so Ben just turns his head back around and stares at the back of the row of seats in front of him.

It’s day three of the road trip. After Salem, they spent one more night in Massive Two Shits, and then drove to Rhode Island early in the morning. It was a calm drive. Not very lively, actually, since they were all still half asleep during it. Yesterday, after getting into Rhode Island, they didn’t do much. There was a cliff walk thingy they decided to do, and after seeing they could go to the beach, they went shopping for swimsuits for whoever didn’t bring anyway (AKA Richie, Mike, and Bill) along with sunscreen and towels. They didn’t go to the beach though, because by the time they wanted to all the public ones were closed. So, that’s what they’re doing today. That is, if anyone else can wake up.

Ben turns and lifts his head to look out the window. The sun isn’t too high up in the sky, meaning it’s still early in the morning. The inside of the van is filled with sounds of sleeping. Bill’s loud snores that they’ve all gotten used to, Eddie’s occasional sleep talk, Mike’s soft snores (Ben didn’t even realize he snores until this trip), and Richie’s random hums of content (nothing sexual, _thank_ _God_). Last night, no one really wanted to find a hotel or motel to stay in, so they found a safe place to park the van and got situated there. Mike and Ben got one of the middle rows, and Eddie and Bev got the first row – they’re in no doubt a similar position to him and Mike – while Richie took the floorboard in front of it. Bill leaned back the driver’s seat almost all the way, and Stan did the same with the passenger’s seat; the two of them fell asleep there, everyone with their own pillows and blankets – except for Ben and Mike, who somehow ended up _sharing_ a pillow.

Some minutes later, Ben slides onto the floor and just lays there for a moment or two before carefully sitting up. He then grabs his wad of clothes from under the seats and carefully and slowly slips on the shorts he wore the day before. He then grabs his shoes and the shirt, and made sure his wallet is in his shorts’ pockets before standing up and getting out of the van as quietly as possible. Ben rubs at his face and runs his hands through his hair after putting on the shoes and shirt outside, only to freeze as the van door slides open again to reveal Eddie, half asleep with wild hair but fully dressed. They both just stare for a moment.

“Uh. Morning?” He winces as it came out as a question and not a greeting, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice. He grunts in response and rubs at his eyes. “How’d you sleep?”

“Terrible,” Eddie mutters. “Not because of any of you guys, but just…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, and sighs. “Sorry, I don’t feel like talking about it right now.”

Ben nods. “That’s alright, man.” He guesses that it has something to do with his mom, or maybe he’s homesick; either way, he doesn’t push into it. “You can sleep on the beach later – I’ll make sure you’ll wake up from time to time to put on sunscreen.”

A smile – albeit a tired one that doesn’t reach his ears – forms. “Thanks, Ben. Where’re you going?”

He motions down the road vaguely. “To the gas station for some coffee. Wanna come with?” Eddie gives him a grimace, and he doesn’t need to say a thing for Ben to know what he’s thinking. “It’s good!” Ben promises. “_Nothing _ like hotel coffee, I swear.” Still, Eddie stares at him with the grimace expression. “You don’t have to get any.”

Eddie then looks offended. “Of course I’m getting some!” He whispered-shouts, glancing shortly at the van, and they both know that if he had been any louder he would’ve woken some of the others. “But if I get some disease because of you-.”

Ben’s hands move up in mock surrender. “Eddie, if you get sick from the gas station coffee, I give you permission to do anything you want to me.”

Instantly, they both freeze, both thinking how wrong that sounded, and it doesn’t help that an amused snort comes from inside the van. Eddie rolls his eyes, and Ben shakes his head as the shorter boy tells Richie to shut up. Then, the two are off to the gas station. They’re both still mildly half asleep so the conversation is minimal, but the company is appreciated – at least on Ben’s side. He likes spending time with Eddie – even though he can be too much sometimes, but in certain degrees, that can go for any one of them – and, unfortunately, the two haven’t spent one-on-one time together in a while.

It’s not until they’re in the gas station and making seven coffees when they really talk again, just so they can make sure they’re making everything okay enough for the others.

“Bill likes a lot of creamer, right?” 

“Yeah, the weirdo.”

“I literally just watched you dump a shit ton of sugar in your coffee, Eddie.” 

“Okay, and? Wait- does Stan like coffee?”

“Black.” 

“Great, okay.”

“Richie likes is black, too, yeah?” 

“Yeah, but with some sugar. No creamer.”

“Mike?” 

“Honestly, he drinks anything. Bev likes hers strong, right?”

“Yep, with only a little bit of creamer, and some sugar.”

When they’re done and are standing with seven cups of coffee on the counter in front of them, they hi-five, proud of themselves. Eddie then grabs a pen out of his fanny pack – which Ben doesn’t even notice until then – and he puts everyone’s initials on the lids. Ben pays for all of them, mutters a sorry to the cashier as he does so, and then thanks the employee after it’s all done. On the walk back to the van, Eddie carries three and Ben carries four with ease.

They got there only to see everyone else already up and about. The two slow down as they get closer, matching expressions of confusion on their faces because usually it takes a lot for everyone to be up at the same time this early. Sure, it’s not extremely early, or anything, but the chances of everyone getting up at the same time is slim. Their confusion quickly morphs into amusement as the Piña Colada song meets their ears.

Richie and Bill are on top of the van, loudly singing along. The two are barely even dressed for the day; Richie is wearing one of his Hawaiian shirts, unbuttoned, with a loose pair of old gym shorts he slept in, and Bill is just in boxer shorts and socks, a baseball cap backwards on his head. Mike is trying to take a picture with Bill’s camera, but both Richie and Bill are moving too fast to get a good one. Beverly is sitting on the edge and dodges one of Richie’s legs, and then Stan is standing a little ways away, arms crossed and trying to not look amused. No one is dressed properly, Ben realizes, as he looks at his friends. Everyone minus him and Eddie are still in what they slept in. He glances around at the few morning runners, and gives a sorry smile as one in particular glares at them.

“_Yes, I like Piña Coladas!_” Richie belts out along with the van’s radio and slings an arm around Bill’s shoulders. “_And getting caught in the rain!_”

Bill laughs and leans into Richie. “_I’m not much into health food, I am into champagne!_” He puts an arm around Richie’s waist, and they sing loudly – correction: _ terribly_– through the rest of the chorus together.

“_I’ve got to meet you by tomorrow noon, and cut through all this red tape_—.”

“How long were we gone?” Ben leans down to speak to Eddie, neither taking their eyes off of their, quite frankly, embarrassing friends.

Eddie shakes his head. “Like… Forty minutes? What the fuck. They could’ve changed – Bill could’ve _ put on clothes_!”

“Bill streaked through one of the high school’s football games,” Stan states as he walks up. “I’m honestly not surprised by him being half naked in public.” 

Ben holds out the four coffees he’s holding and lets Stan take his, and then Beverly is sliding down the van and rushes to them, grinning as she goes to Ben as well, taking her own coffee after looking at the initials. “Wasn’t that for a dare?” He asks Stan. “By _ you_?”

Stan hides his smirk behind the coffee while he takes a sip.

“—_and we laughed for a moment, and I said, ‘I never knew’_—.”

Beverly giggles as she holds her coffee. “I think we shouldn’t give them their coffee,” she says, and the three of them watch as Richie dramatically sings a song about piña coladas while dancing terribly, and as Bill does everything equally as bad without a care in the world about being in just boxer shorts and socks. Ben honestly wonders how a cop hasn’t walked up yet and taken them in for public indecency.

“They’ll be worn out by the end of the day because of the sun,” Ben says.

It’s said in hope, though. Nothing has really ever stopped the duo on the van from doing chaotic, obnoxious, stupid things before – and Bev knows that, too. So when she gives him a look of disbelief, silently saying she doubts that’ll happen, Ben can’t argue with her. Not that he would argue with Bev, anyway.

Mike walks up, then, with an amused smile. Eddie hands him his coffee, to which Mike takes with a thanks, which then prompts Bev and Stan to thank the boys as well since they had forgotten to earlier. “Should we stop them?” He asks.

“Hey, eyesores!” Stan shouts above the playing music and singing. Richie and Bill stop almost instantly. “Ben and Eddie brought coffee, and if you want some before I throw it away, I suggest you stop embarrassing yourselves.” A pause. “And put some fucking clothes on, Bill.”

Ben watches as Bill looks down at himself. Blue eyes grow wide, and suddenly he’s sliding off of the van and diving into it, shutting the door behind him. Richie gets off and comes over next.

“You could have invited me to come with, y’know,” Richie says as a thanks when he takes the cup from Eddie. “I was awake, too.”

“We know,” is all Eddie replies with. The words quickly start their daily routine of bickering, and Ben steps away from them.

He takes a sip of his own coffee as Mike takes Bill’s from his other hand. Mike and Stan begin to talk, sipping their coffees, and soon enough Bill is joining them – fully dressed now with the cap still backwards on his head – and he takes his cup from Mike, the two sharing smiles. 

Ben turns to Bev and motions to her coffee with his own. “How is it?”

“It’s good, actually,” she says. “I never expected gas station coffee to be this good. And you made it perfectly. Thanks.”

He sheepishly shrugs. “Ah, it’s nothing, just some coffee.”

“Maybe but I’m still thanking you for it. Hey, are you ready for the beach today? I know that, uh…” Bev trails off and paused for a short moment, clearly figuring out the right words to say. “You’ve said something before, a few times, about not being body confident and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Warmth spreads through his chest. He knows that the others know about him being self conscious and all, but for some reason he hadn’t been expecting anyone to bring it up. To make sure he feels comfortable. Let alone that person being _ Bev_. But at the same time, it makes sense that she’s the one making sure he’s alright. She did the same thing with Stan and his route when they decided to go to Salem.

Ben feels himself fall a little.

“I’ll be fine,” he assures her with a smile. “Most likely I’ll just wear a shirt that I don’t care too much about with my swim trunks.”

The thing is, Ben knows he’s not fat like he had been as a child. Overweight and chunky. He actually used to be fine with his weight until middle school came around, and that’s when the self consciousness came into play. And at first he wasn’t even going to lose weight. Eventually he did, most for himself but also to spite the bullies, and the fact that he did track helped out; as did eating healthier. Now, he’s still got some fat on him. He doesn’t have a ‘perfect’ male body, that’s for sure – the only one closest to that is Mike – but he’s got descent muscle and all, and he’s at a healthy weight that fluctuates. Still, he feels insecure sometimes. Not as often and not as much as he did in his early teen years, but it’s still there.

Bev looks up at him and nods. “I figured. Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable – and I’m sure the others do too.”

“Hey, if I wasn’t comfortable, I would have asked if we could do something else.”

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Ben, honey, you ate oysters last year because you couldn’t say no to Mr. Denbrough. You _ hate _ oysters.”

Ignoring the term of endearment – mentally, at least, because physically, his cheeks turn red – Ben winces.

“You puked after.”

“A lot can change in a year,” he defends himself poorly, because he knows that Bev knows that he wouldn’t have suggested a different place if he wasn’t comfortable with the beach.

Bev just gives him a tiny smile and squeezes his upper arm. “You’re a sweetheart, Ben,” she says quietly. “But maybe learn to say no?” Her nose scrunches up at the suggestion.

He chuckles. “I’ll try,” he promises. “Also, I _ swear _ I’m comfortable with the beach.”

“I know, I believe you. I just care about you.” There’s a small pause, and her cheeks turn the slightest pink. “We all do,” she adds quickly.

“Bev!” Eddie calls, now by the van, waving to get her attention. They both look at him. “Can you help me find my old Thundercats shirt?”

Bev smiles and nods. “Be there in a second!”

“I’ll help too—.”

A chorus of, “_No, Richie_,” is heard from Eddie, Bev, and Bill. Richie gapes at them and dramatically huffs, eliciting a small laugh from Ben.

+++

“_Kowabunga, dudes_!”

From behind the group, Richie dashes forward, yelling in pure excitement. Bill is right after him, and so is Bev. All three run down the wooden ramp and take off their flip flops to run easier through the sand to get to the chairs and two umbrellas they rented – and they weren’t too expensive, _ thank God_. And before Stan knows it, Eddie is chasing after the three of them as well, equally excited, but pushing that away for the time being to make sure they put on sunscreen; they have, everyone has. Stan watches them and cracks a smile as Bill faceplants into the sand right behind their chairs. He can hear Bev’s laughter mix with Richie’s almost instantly, and Eddie freezes where he is before laughing as well. A few groups of families and friends look their way, amused at Bill as well, before moving on with their lives.

Mike chuckles beside Stan as they get off the ramp. Behind them, Ben carries a backpack that was carefully packed earlier with some sandwiches, water, and fruit. 

Stan steps into the sand and slips off the flip flops with ease. He grimaces a bit. He isn’t fond of sand – it gets everywhere _ so _ easily – but he can tolerate it enough to enjoy some time with his friends. By the time he gets to the four chairs with Mike and Ben, Bev has chucked off her coverup and hung it over one of the chairs with her towel and is now standing ankle deep. The waves, which are a bit rough but nothing huge, crash onto the shore and her ankles. Richie isn’t too far behind. He takes off his shirt with ease and lets it fall on the sand by his crumpled up towel and flip flops before running to stand with Bev.

Stan carefully puts his towel on the back of one of the chairs that’s directly under one of the two umbrellas. “I can already see Richie trying to go out to the other sandbar and drowning,” he says to Mike, light hazel eyes going over the choppy waters and cloudy sky, anxiety starting to bubble up. 

It probably isn’t the best day for a beach trip, but they’re here anyway so they might as well have some fun.

“He won’t drown,” Mike assures.

“We’ve all been to the beach only, like, a handful of times during our eighteen years of living. If at all! What if he doesn’t know about rip currents? How strong are the rip currents today _ anyway_? They get pretty strong, y’know, and—.”

“Stan,” Mike interrupts. He lays a comforting hand on Stan’s shoulder, tilting his head down the littlest bit to see under the umbrella. “It’s Richie. He’s a dumbass but he’s not stupid. Also, Eddie is with them.”

At that, Stan looks back to the shore. Sure enough, Eddie is standing a few feet away in the damp sand with crossed arms. It’s then that Stan notices Eddie’s things in the chair beside his own.

“Y-Yeah, Rich isn’t gonna swim too far with Eddie, especially since Eddie’s never been to the beach,” Bill speaks up.

“All the more reason for him to go to the sandbar,” Stan says. He knows Richie. But so do Bill and Mike. They also know Eddie. If he isn’t doesn’t want to go to the sandbank, they won’t; but if he does… Stan doesn’t think about that. At least, he tries not to. He doesn’t need to become so worrisome so early. “But, really, how strong are the rip currents?”

“They’re there but not too strong,” Ben says from a few feet away. “Only thing we gotta worry about is the possible storm that’s coming in. Heard some locals talking about it.”

All of them make faces of disappointment. “That sucks,” Mike mutters. “Well. Better make the most of it while we can!” And then he’s slipping off his own shirt and racing to the ocean like some sort of model.

Stan stares for a moment. He’s expecting himself to blush deeply and feel the familiar fast beating of his heart and a swarm butterflies in his chest. And he does. Except it’s not as strong as he distinctly remembers it being two days ago. As he slips off his shirt, Stan thinks to himself. Well, he tries to, because those feelings towards Mike certainly aren’t as strong as they had been and—

And then Richie is running up to him.

Stan yells as Richie wraps his arms around him, throwing the boy over his shoulder. Stan tried to push himself away. “Richie, let me go! Rich- Ben! Hey, help me, please! Richie, I am going to drown you!”

Richie laughs. “No you won’t!”

“Sorry, Stan!”

“Richard! I _ will— _.”

Richie lets go and Stan falls into the ocean. As a wave goes passed them, Stan makes a move to his friend but then Eddie is tackling the lanky boy into the water. It’s a familiar sight. Except this time, instead of the green and calm waters of the quarry, it’s in the choppy and blue waters of the ocean. Stan snorts, then stumbles as a weight is on his back, water splashing into his face thanks to Eddie. He spits out the salt water with a look of disgust.

“Sorry, Stan,” Bev laughs in his ear, repeating Ben’s words.

He hummed. “No, you’re not.”

She laughs again and slides off. “You’re right, I’m not. I was trying to knock you over.”

Stan turns and playfully glares at her, paired with his middle finger. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!” Bev retaliates with, still smiling.

“Fuck b-both of you!” Bill shouts and does what Bev couldn’t. He knocks Stan over, but brings Bev with them both.

Stan kicks Bill away underwater before popping above the surface again. He’s smiling, though; he’s happy to be with his friends, and he notices that the more fun he’s having the less he’s worried about something going wrong. So, he keeps at it. He jumps with the waves, and they play chicken the best to their abilities. Ben eventually joins them, joining in on the fun.

At some point, Stan ends up holding Richie like a baby. He looks down at his friend with a raised eyebrow. “Why.”

Richie shrugs. He situates his arms and hands around Stan’s neck better. Stan rolls his eyes and lets go, but Richie lets out a small shout and scrambles to wrap himself around Stan like a koala, refusing to touch the ground. Stan stands there with wide eyed, arms spread out. He looks over at their friends. Bev and Bill went to the sandbar. They’re standing over there, pushing each other around like everyone had been earlier. Ben is with Mike, the two closer to the shore. Eddie is close by, floating on his back as he looks at the clouds.

Stan then looks back at Richie. “What the actual fuck, dude.”

“I am not stepping in the sand,” Richie says hurriedly and quietly.

“What?” Sometimes, Stan doesn’t understand Richie. This is one of those times. But as he recognizes anxiety on his features, Stan lets the judgement go away. “Richie, seriously, you’re making me worry.”

“Okay. Don’t freak out,” Richie starts.

Stan tenses up. “Oh, my God, there’s a shark, isn’t there?”

“No! No, if there was, the lifeguard people would’ve told us to get out by now. But…”

“Richie, I swear to fucking—.”

“There is a stingray.”

Stan takes a breath. He’s ready to scream out a ‘what’ but before he can, Richie is covering his mouth with one hand and glaring at him. It comes out muffled.

“I said not to freak out,” he hisses.

Stan bats Richie’s hand away. “_Not freak out_?” He repeats. “About a fucking _ stin_—?”

“I don’t want Eddie to find out,” Richie rushes out in a whisper and motions to his crush. “He’s having fun.”

And, that’s true. Eddie’s not simply floating and looking at the clouds anymore. Instead, he’s just swimming around with Mike, and diving into the bigger waves to avoid them crashing on him. Stan sighs and looks at Richie.

“And, like, stingrays aren’t _ that _ dangerous, we just can’t step on them. But he won’t listen to that, he’ll just freak out, and I don’t want that.”

“Then why tell _ me_? Why even bring it up?”

“Because I think I just discovered a new fear.”

Stan bites his tongue and tries not to laugh. He really tried to hold it in, but the laughter bubbles out anyway. Richie’s frowning, almost pouting, and it just causes Stan to laugh harder. “I’m- shit, I’m sorry, but. Richie. Seriously?”

“It’s rational!” He defends himself.

“I know! But this is so _ ironic_. You’re basically doing what you don’t want Eddie to do.”

“...No I’m not.”

“Then get down.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

“Wha- _ Ah _!”

Stan cuts Richie off by shoving him off and into the water. In an instant, Stan is swimming away as fast as he can. Richie yells at him but Stan ignores it, and jumps behind Mike.

“Mike, move!”

Mike doesn’t move. He stands there, thoroughly confused. “Why?”

Eddie looks between them all, amused. Dark hair flat on his forehead, the ends curly slightly now that whatever product he puts in has been washed out thanks to the ocean water. No one says anything as Richie lunges to jump over Mike. He fails _ terribly_. He doesn’t even get over Mike; his arms and chin land awkwardly on his left shoulder as Mike catches him, and Stan swims backwards a little bit.

“Dude, what’s going on?” Mike asks with a laugh.

“He shoved me into the water!”

“We’ve been doing that, Rich,” Eddie says. “Idiot.”

Richie moves away from Mike and huffs. He grumbles something none of them can hear and fixes his glasses – something that everyone is very surprised that he hasn’t lost yet.

It doesn’t take long at all for Richie to get distracted by Eddie. Stan looks around. The clouds are darkening the slightest bit, but other than that the weather hasn’t exactly changed. He then looks in the water. Richie’s comment about there being a stingray makes him wonder if being in the water is a danger. He doesn’t say anything about it, though, especially with Eddie close by. He truly is having fun, and other than a rant on the way to the beach about the different germs that could possibly be in the ocean, Eddie hasn’t freaked out much over anything. So, Stan just stands a bit straighter, which catches Mike’s attention.

“Are you leaving me?” Mike asks, feigning a pout.

Stan glances away from his face for a moment. Yeah, his crush is still there, alright; the feelings just aren’t as strong as they have been. “I’m getting too pruney,” Stan says, rather than mention the anxiety Richie accidentally planted in his head about the oceanic wildlife. He lifts his hands out of the water as if to show a point.

Mike nods. “Alright. I’ll herd everyone in to get something to eat in a few.”

Stan gives him a small smile. Then, he’s going to shore and he makes his way to the chairs, careful not to get too much sand on him on the walk back. He grabs his towel once he’s there and wraps it around himself. Ben is sitting in one of the chairs that’s out in the sun, flipping through one of Bev’s fashion magazines extra carefully so he doesn’t ruin the pages. Stan doesn’t want to abandon his friends – _ you’re not abandoning them_, the rational part of his brain chastises, barely heard over the thoughts diving into what might happen if someone got stung by a stingray – but at least Ben is with him.

+++

Two hours later – after eating some snacks and drinking water and putting more sunscreen on – a few of the Losers go back into the water while the rest stay by the rental chairs and umbrellas. Eddie is passed out in the sun as he lays on his stomach, his towel between his body and the sand, and Bev sits in the chair beside him, sunglasses over her eyes as she soaks in the sun. Stan lays under one of the umbrellas, the chair leaning all the way back, with a towel over his head and face as he sleeps too. Then there are Bill, Ben, Mike, and Richie. The four of them went back in the water the moment they were able to, and went back to the sandbar once Stan fell asleep, and now they’re back, looking for seashells and sand dollars blindly since they don’t have goggles.

Bill sucks in a deep breath of air and squeezes his eyes shut before diving back into the water. Blindly, he digs around in the sand as long as he can, staying under water until his lungs are burning for oxygen. He pops above the surface with a gasp of air and shakes his head as if he were a dog. Ben comes up a second later, doing the same thing, but pushes his hair from his forehead unlike Bill.

“Anything?” Richie asks, glasses gone. Mike made sure he left the glasses with the others, and the three boys take turns making sure the boy doesn’t do anything stupid or harmful with his blurry sight. 

“It’s hard,” Ben says with a shake of his head. He lifted up a severely broken seashell. “Without any goggles, we aren’t gonna find anything good.”

Bill frowns and takes the broken seashell from Ben. “I mean, it’s still pretty,” he tries.

Richie rolls his eyes. “We’re missing three-fourths of it, dude.”

“How can you tell? You’re fucking blind without your glasses!”

“Billiam, I can still see shapes, you dumbass.”

“Oh, right.”

They all laugh.

None of them stay in the water for too long after that. Bill quickly notes the darkening sky and clouds, but doesn’t say anything about it. He knows everyone else can see it, as well as the locals who are starting to leave despite the day not being over at all. They soon get to their other friends again, and they take their towels from where they left them and start to dry off.

Bill turns to where Richie stands. He’s about to ask if they have any other plans for the day, but stops as he realizes the teen is staring intently at something. Bill moves to stand beside him and follows Richie’s line of sight. Two girls around their age stand not so far away, holding hands, smiling. It’s clear that they’re together romantically and Bill can’t help but be surprised that they’re being even the slightest couple-y out in the open like this. He hears Richie sigh, so he looks back at his friend and watches as Richie fosses his towel on his head, attempting to dry his wild mess of hair.

“You okay, bro?” Bill asks.

Richie shrugs. He lifts his head, the towel only allowing the other to see the bottom half of his face. His lips curl into a goofy smile. “Never better, Billiam!”

Bill slowly nods. He lays a hand on Richie’s shoulder and squeezes it, a silent touch of comfort. He removes it soon after and goes to step away, to give him some space, but halts as they both notice that a girl is walking their way. The friends share a look once Richie pulls off the towel. He fixes his glasses.

“I saw your staring at that couple,” she says. She has blonde hair and bright green eyes, and she looks less than pleased.

“Uh–.”

“Have something to say about it?” 

Richie holds his palms up after setting the towel around his neck. “Whoa, blondie, you got the wrong idea here,” he tells her.

She lifts a brow. “Do I?”

Bill nods. “Y-Yeah! It’s not- we weren’t-.”

“Weren’t _ what_?” Blondie asks. “I know their relationship might not seem okay in the eyes of the majority, but that doesn’t give you a right to stare.”

That takes the boys by surprise. They both quickly start to talk, voices overlapping. Richie tries to explain that he’s not, that he’s very much into boys, but he doesn’t exactly want to out himself to the stranger so not much of anything came out. Bill tries to tell the girl that he doesn’t have a problem with gays and lesbians and bisexuals and everything else, but at the accusation has him stuttering a bit too much.

“What did you two do now?” comes the exasperated question from one of their friends.

Richie perks up and turns. “Eds! Tell this girl we aren’t homophobic!”

Eddie blinks, taken by surprise. “Uh. What? I mean!” His eyes widened dramatically at the girl’s unimpressed look. “I mean, yeah, we- we- none of us are like that. I ho- I think.”

Blondie looks even _ more _ unimpressed. “You think?” she asks.

Eddie nervously chuckles. “Yes?”

Bill facepalms.

Richie winces, but he quickly recovers with a sigh and looks to the girl again. “Listen, I’m sorry for staring. I come from a small town, we all do,” he motions vaguely to his friends behind them, not paying too much attention, “so seeing same-sex couples aren’t exactly a norm for us. Just, please, trust us that we’re not like that. I shouldn’t have stared, so. Sorry.”

Bill nods along. “I- It was rude. I’m sorry too,” he says.

The blonde’s brows knit together. “It’s alright,” she eventually tells them. “Mistakes happen. I just know those girls. They’ve been through a lot shit and are finally in a good place. I don’t want anything ruining that.”

Bill smiles. “That’s alright,” he says. His gaze shifts over to Richie, but quickly moves to Eddie instead. His expression is unreadable. “It’s not f-fair how the world s-s-sees same-sex couples,” he says and looked back at the blonde.

Eddie shifts in the sand, arms crossed over his chest as he keeps his gaze down. He mumbles something but none of them catch it.

Blondie nods sadly. “It really isn’t.” She smiles. “I’m Sandy, by the way.”

“I’m Bill.”

“Richie,” the lanky teen introduces himself with a wide grin. “And that’s Eds.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “_Eddie_,” he corrects with a small glare to Richie. There is no heat behind the action, and Richie just grins some more. “It’s nice to meet you, Sandy. Sorry about them being dumbasses.”

Sandy laughs. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re not homophobic, that it was just a misunderstanding.”

“So… Do you like sand?” Richie asks.

Lightning goes across the sky in the distance right then and it’s followed by a crack of thunder.

“I think the universe wants you to shu- shut up,” Bill teases, making Eddie and Sandy both laugh. 

The laughter gets cut off as drops nod rain start to fall. It starts off as slow but then in a blink of an eye, the rain pours down harshly. More lightning goes across the sky, and the thunder is louder this time around. The Losers scramble to gather their belongings.

“Shit,” Bill hears Sandy mutter. She rushes up to the group. “Can you drive me home? I walked here.”

Mike nods instantly. “Of course. Care to help us get our things to the van?”

Sandy nods in return and grabs whatever she can. Then, they all run.

+++

They end up all staying at Sandy’s home. The Losers, after they all made it safely to the van and squished in like a can of sardines, explain to Sandy their road trip and how, right now, they didn’t have a place to stay other than the van. She quickly offered her home, said her parents wouldn’t mind, and so they went.

Richie suddenly wants a hotel room. Sandy’s home isn’t bad. It’s actually rather on the bigger side; there is a second floor, along with a basement, and there’s a balcony on the second floor as well. The living room is huge, there are two guest rooms, they have two TVs, and the kitchen isn’t too small. It’s rather that her parents are two women and after getting over the initial shock and awe and the want to bow down to them, in comes the dreaded panic of his own sexuality.

He knows he’s bisexual. He knows he likes Eddie. He knows boys liking boys isn’t exactly a good thing to a society. He knows seeing Sandy’s moms be affectionate to one another – way more affectionate than the couple he stared at on the beach – has an effect on him he doesn’t expect. All he can think about is him and Eddie, and truthfully Richie wants to combust. The women are so close and loving, and they’re sweet and kind, and the looks they give each other makes Richie realize he might give those looks to Eddie without realizing it, and it… 

It’s scary, simply put.

He can handle liking Eddie. He can’t handle the realization that he might be in love with Eddie.

Barb and Diane share a quick peck in the kitchen before Barb walks out. Richie quickly looks away from Diane before she can catch him staring and goes back to eating the pizza.

“You okay?” Ben asks from across the table. 

Other than Diane, who is making sure the third dozen pizza doesn’t burn in the oven, they’re the only two in the kitchen. Stan is down in the basement with Sandy, Bill and Beverly, while Eddie is taking a shower, and Mike is currently using the home phone in the hallway to talk to his parents.

Richie nods, but doesn’t say anything.

Ben frowns as he chews. Thankfully, he doesn’t press on the matter.

“Oh, pizza!” Eddie excitedly yells as he enters the kitchen. 

Richie whips his head to the entrance of the kitchen. Eddie’s hair is damp, the ends curling since he has yet to put product in it. A few strands still stuck to his forehead. The sun today, despite it being cloudy, Richie realizes, did the shorter boy some good. He’s already tanner. The sun exposure has already caused a few freckles to show up, and his cheeks and nose may be a little pink but they all know it isn’t something to worry about. Eddie always seems to burn slightly before getting really tan; it freaks Sonia out, and for a bit of time Eddie wore long sleeves even during the summer time because his mother worried about him getting skin cancer. Now, he doesn’t.

Richie suddenly stands and picks his plate up. A piece of cheese pizza sits on it, untouched. “There’s no more cheese left,” he explains and hands Eddie his.

Eddie takes it, albeit hesitant. “Did you do something to it…?”

He smirks. “Yes, I replaced the sauce with my spit.”

“_Richie_!”

“I’m joking! Geez, Eds.” He laughs slightly and messes up Eddie’s hair, earning another shout. Truthfully, Richie reached up to push some hair from Eddie’s face, but decided messing it up is the better way to go. “Go eat so we don’t have to deal with your hangry gremlin side.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Stop comparing me to those ugly things.”

“But they’re cute! Just like you!”

“Fuck off,” he mumbles, and gently punches Richie’s arm as he walks by. 

Richie rubs the spot with a smile he knows is full of fondness. But it drops as he realizes that Diane is subtly watching them, and he straightens a bit. He clears his throat and leaves the kitchen as quickly as possible without it looking weird. He makes his way to the basement and falls face first into the small couch against the wall, ignoring the short pause in conversation the other four are having as he did so.

“You’re subdued today.”

Richie shrugs but doesn’t move at Stan’s statement.

Stan sighs. He sits on the floor by the couch and when he speaks, it’s low so Sandy and Bev don’t overhear. “Is it about Eddie?”

“I’ve got it bad,” Richie mutters back. He shifts around so he’s looking at his friend. “Like, mega bad. I don’t even think it’s just a crush anymore.”

Stan smiles. “Congratulations,” he whispers, “you finally realized your own feelings.”

“It’s not a good thing.”

The rips Stan’s smile away. “What? Why? I thought seeing her aunts would make things better.”

Richie shrugs. “It does, a little. Still scary.”

Stan pats his friend’s back in comfort. “I’m sorry, Rich.”

“How’s your crush going?” Richie asks after a few moments of silence, but makes sure that he did it quietly so the others can’t hear.

His best friend shrugs. “I think it’s actually starting to go away,” Stan says honestly.

Richie stuffs his face into the cushion again and groans. It just causes Stan to laugh a little, both out of pity and amusement. He pats Richie’s back again and then stands up. 

“Alright. Play pool with me, it’ll cheer you up.” When Richie doesn’t move, Stan sighs. “That’s an order, Richard.”

This causes Richie to move. He sits up and smirks, and Stan's previously amused face falls. “Oh, bossy. Just how I like it!” 

“Nevermind. Rot into the couch.”


End file.
